Date: Sat, 24 Sep 2022 16:28:47 +0200 (CEST) From: Bruno BODIN Subject: Unexpected Encounter meeting between a professional musician and a teenager Disclaimer: this story is just a fantasy and I have no evidence that this actually happened, but we can all dream. Happy reading. UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER I finally solved my concert problem. Fifty-five years and almost forty years of harpsichord performances, 55 reminds me of the 555 sonatas composed by my favorite composer, Domenico Scarlatti. I am best known for my tender and mischievous interpretations of French music, Couperin, Rameau, Debussy, Ravel, Messiaen and even Boulez (for which I allow myself a necessary detour via the piano), and I delight in doing during my concerts, comments on the names of the works of these composers: Les tendres plaintes, Les niais de Sologne, La commère, La poule, Les barricades mystérieuses, La cathédrale engloutie, Le réveil des oiseux, Le marteau sans maître ... these Frenchies of the great music have been able to avoid the austere numberings à la Bach BWV 1055 and more if affinity and also those of Scarlatti K208 up to 555! These stuffy indoor concerts were starting to bore me, which was obviously reflected in the quality of my performances. A wave of panic took hold of me the day I felt that the joyful music of Les Niais de Sologne by Rameau ... no longer gave me joy. A good discussion with my faithful secretary and friend Jocelyne made us find the way, to get physically closer to the fans of early music, and the solution: to build an offer of concerts in the living room, that is to say at the wealthy inhabitant for continue to earn our bread and also in places neglected by music, prisons and hospitals as shown by a scene from the very beautiful film "Orchestra seats". Our "baroque and co" network allowed us to quickly distribute an offer of specific concerts in Europe with two particularities: "choose yourself a work that you wish to hear at home and estimate the possible amount of our remuneration". Immediate success: a good fifty requests and the only problem we had to solve: planning these services. And that's how I found myself in Dumfries in Scotland, at the keyboard of an excellent harpsichord, two harpsichords in fact, in front of a motivated audience made up of about twenty fans ... including a young boy who was going to turn my life upside down. interpreter. The mistress of the house had welcomed me with a big smile by introducing me to this boy "Bastian, my grandson, twelve years old, who was eager to see you, and to hear you, he also plays the harpsichord and he speaks French , I leave you with him. Bastian, show his apartments to our host". A whisper escapes my lips: "love at first sight"... Bastian, who was in front of me to lead me to my room, stops suddenly and turns around: "Eh... I speak English too, huh" Does he know the expression "love at first sight" with its precise meaning ... and if so does he think that this muted declaration of love can be addressed to him? Not possible, let's see... At his age, you don't know that a mature adult, even a virtuoso, can fall in love with a twelve-year-old boy like that at first sight... And yet this is what happens to me: I fell in adoration before this angelic face with the large dark eyes and the silky hair which caresses her shoulders, in front of this slender and vigorous body which approaches me, puts his hands around my waist and leaps on tiptoe to place a kiss on my cheek... I let myself go into this gentle embrace and release myself from it when I feel an absolutely forbidden physical reaction coming... Prohibition yes of course... I have always been attracted to young boys but without ever having "touched" a single one. I had relations with several women and I lived ten years of happiness in marriage with one of them... No relation therefore with a young boy if it is not in dream or fantasized. But what to do with what is happening to me here? Quite simply what I came for: to play music, to play with music... And I can still add after what his grandmother told me: to play with this boy's music, to limit this relationship through music . Lost in my ambiguous thoughts, I stop in the middle of the vast room assigned to me and barely hear Bastian's question. - Master are you ok? - Uh... I'm ok... and glad having you as a guide, Bastian... - ok Bruno so here's your room and there (he opens a door) it's the bathroom with everything you need, and it's mine too, bathroom I mean, my room is just on the other side. We're going to share the water what... I hope you don't mind? - Share water? In Heinlein's novel In a foreign land it means becoming friends for life and death so... I don't know if I'm worthy of it but for now I'm going to take a shower and I'll meet you downstairs ok? - I'll let you take your shower in peace, huh? Bastian stares at me carefully for a moment and gives me a mischievous smile before leaving. Well, it's not going to be easy to remain inert in front of this angel... or demon, I don't know. I revel in an abundant shower thinking of Bastian's "sharing" and I dress as elegantly as possible before going down to the music room to warm up before dinner by repeating the score requested by my hosts: Les Barricades mysteries by François Couperin. Immediately Bastian approaches and looks sideways at my hands unfolding a tempo... hesitant. I stop and offer him: - Bastian, do you know this song? - Oh yes since I saw you play it in Paris... that one and many others... - Is that why I'm here? - exactly... I asked my grandmother to invite you because I love your playing and also how you talk about this music. It's true that I got into the habit of commenting on these French songs with funny names after playing them... Les Barricades Mystérieuses but what is this thing? - Well go play it, I'll give you the place... or go to the other one, I'm listening! Bastian goes around to sit in front of the other instrument. He begins this piece with an ultra fast tempo. Does he want to impress me with his virtuosity? A certain charm emerges from this race against the melancholy of these Barricades, as if we wanted to rid them of their mystery. I get up and come to stand behind him, leaving my hands to act alone to land gently on his shoulders, I immediately feel the tremors that agitate this strange kid. He continues though, slowing his tempo to come to a rousing final chord. Then he remains motionless under the caresses that escape from my hands towards his neck, I spread his curls and place a butterfly kiss there, I return to my instrument. We look at each other under the raised lids of the two harpsichords and in these attentive gazes there is a whole range of surprise, recognition, joy and I don't know what else. - So Bastian, everywhere huh! - what a everywhere? - look... Well, your speed race on these barricades made me want to play a duet with you... wait for me here, I'll look for a score in our room... - in our room? - uh sorry in my room, your story about sharing water confused me a bit. A mocking smile lights up his face. I get up and go up to my room to look for the score of a "duetto" for harpsichord by Christophe Schaffrath, a contemporary of Bach and Couperin. There are nearly three hours left before the concert in front of this small assembly of Scottish people... the time to see if Bastian can assimilate this delicious score so that we can give it to his audience... or for the second concert tomorrow: two days to go with this maddening boy it has to do it but... In fact Bastian joins me upstairs. I show him the sheet music. - you read it and you tell me if we can try it together tonight ok? - but I already played this duetto, with my music teacher last year. OK ! Definitely it is completely bluffing. I no longer know how to deal with this phenomenon. We'll see if we can push a little further... - Bastian has a question that bothers me because we are in Scotland, can I...? - well yes what... - do you Scottish boys still wear a kilt? A dazzling smile... - I have one... do you want me to show you? - No need... I just wanted to know if this tradition still existed. - no but yes, I will show you of course, wait for me here. Without waiting for my answer he rushes to his room through the bathroom. I wait, wondering if he realizes the ambiguity of my question. A few minutes and Bastian returns to "our" room. A blue and red kilt with green facings that comes to just below his knees. I exclaim: - it suits you perfectly! - you haven't seen everything... - I think I've seen enough. - you do not want... He sits on the bed and leans back, slowly raising his knees, revealing his lower thighs. This little genius had therefore understood the meaning of my question, but I can't let him do such a dangerous seduction operation now... we don't see everything yet but we can clearly see that he is not wearing underpants under his kilt ... - Stop Bastian! - ok ... - There you answered all my questions at once, but it's not a show for a man like me, let's try this duetto, I want to make a success with you! Go dress up as a classical musician! - ah ah if you think you're going to get away with it... but hey yes let's make the music I can't wait to play with you! - OK, I'll be waiting for you downstairs. - Yes master! - that's it, fuck with me... definitely it will be safer to have two instruments between you and me... A little later we are seated face to face in front of our instruments. A few looks of agreement then we start the first movement, without the scores... he knows this music by heart like me. A brilliant first movement full of joy and rhythmic jolts. Then we start the adagio, a slow movement of tender melody, this score is made of soft reminders from one instrument to another and it's as if we were exchanging caresses, at least that's how I feel and all of a sudden tears come to my eyes, tears of intense pleasure, it's as if I had her in my arms to exchange real caresses. I fell in love with this boy indeed! Really ! Bastian stops at the end of the movement. He saw my tears. - what's going on master? - Nothing at all ! it's tears of joy to exchange these musical caresses with you - hugs... Bastian stops, his grandmother has entered the music room and is looking at us smiling. - so boys what a wonder say so, I heard your duet next door while preparing some snacks.... Are you going to play it later? - yes of course, now we have to repeat the last movement - well I leave you, the music-loving guests will arrive in an hour. We unroll this 3rd movement allegro, very light indeed. Well there are two hours left before the concert, I would like to take a break... - Bastian, I'm going back for a little nap, see you later huh. - ok, is it okay for me? White t-shirt with an open collar, fairly tight navy blue pants, very very sexy my adorable partner... - oh yes you are very beautiful my dear Bastian, we would eat it... - and... what do you find most appetizing, Master? - I didn't say you were appetizing... we would eat it... if we were hungry, for now let me have a little sleep! - okay okay I go back upstairs, let myself go fully dressed on my big bed and I feel a divine sleep taking hold of my troubled brain... All of a sudden I feel the bed move gently and when I wake up discover my Bastian lying next to me, he watches me wake up, surrounds my neck with his two arms and puts his knees on each side of my chest, then he places a furtive kiss on a cheek and gets up. - Hey Master, that's two one, isn't it? But it's time, they're waiting for us, shall we go? Still stunned by this terribly affectionate awakening, I get up, free my bladder and wash my face in the bathroom. We both go downstairs and the hubbub of conversations dies down when we enter the music room. A few people approach the instruments: seeing two magnificent harpsichords is unusual. The mistress of the house introduces me with emphasis, thanking the guests for their presence to support early music, she also introduces her grandson, specifying that it was he who had the idea of ​​bringing this master of baroque music after having heard him in concert at Gaveau. - Bastian was seduced by the acting of this master there, by his way of telling before playing the works he presents... and which he will now make you enjoy. Master it's up to you... Without worry, these small assemblies scare me less than the audiences of the big Parisian halls, I greet briefly by thanking this young Bastian who "discovered" me in Gaveau and with whom I will play an exciting duet later. Then I tell my version of the title "the mysterious barricades": these barricades would be those of the eyelashes of the precious ridiculousness of Molière... Etc etc etc... Finally I put myself on the harpsichord and start the concert with this piece of choice. The concert continues with alternating applause, small anecdotes on the titles of the works played... what a funny work this "tic toc choc ou les maillotins" by François Couperin, "Les niais de Sologne" another enigmatic title for a real masterpiece by Rameau. Finally comes the big moment for me: the duet with Bastian. The first movement, with jumping rhythms, puts us in shape and prepares us for the movement that made me cry earlier. As we approach this exchange of musical caresses, we look at each other and I feel in Bastian's gaze a huge stake of tenderness and sensuality. Bastian launches the first chord and sets the tempo. Immediately I feel a vibration in the audience, a kind of interrogative tension like there is going on something new. I want to hold back my tears of joy and I manage to do so by letting myself be lulled by the tempo chosen by my little partner. Loud applause follows the last chord of the last movement. Bastian gets up and comes to tear me from my stool to give me a tight hug that I can't resist, which makes the applause redouble. I can no longer think of anything other than what could happen in "our" room after dinner: a desire to go from these musical caresses to caresses of the flesh, the legitimacy of which no one would dare to dispute after the performance what we just did... I whisper to Bastian: - how about you put on your kilt for dinner? - uh... ah yes if you help me put it on... come on up? I apologize to the guests: - We're going to take a little break up there, see you later. We arrive in his room and he goes to get his kilt, looks at me and pulls it over his pants. He gives me a provocative smile... - OK, master, are you finishing the dressing? It is in fact an undressing: he lifts his pants and his... below the kilt. There we are at a knot in our relationship... I start... He lies down on his bed and looks at me with a determined air. I take off his loafers and move my hands up under the kilt to unbutton the top of the pants...which I begin to gently pull down to the ankles and pull out completely then place my hands on his ankles and slowly pull them up in taking the time to caress the calves then the lower thighs... amazing how powerful the thighs of a young boy seem... then the upper thighs and I hook the elastic band of his immaculate white cotton panties higher up. I pull the slip gently down and I see that his hardened penis is blocking the movement, I go over it and remove the slip completely, contemplate this magnificent spectacle of this lower abdomen having fun with these very firm and pink balls. Then I raise Bastian panting and it is clear that his presentation in a kilt with this stick impossible to hide once standing, will prevent his return to the music room. - Good Bastian, there is a way to put an end to this indecency, but I'm afraid it will start again once downstairs, isn't it? - Yes put my underpants and my pants back on but first caress me everywhere everywhere - everywhere ? So take off your t-shirt... He takes off the top throws it at the foot of the bed and exposes himself arms and legs apart, eyes closed... I sit on the edge of the bed and start with the toes... a shudder... shins, thighs, a whisper escapes from his lips, the hips, the arms, always very slowly, the shoulders, breathless murmurs, the neck then I turn it over and admire for a moment this muscular back, I continue the caresses going down on the lower back, the buttocks, the line of demarcation, tremors, cavities, like this until I return to the soles of my feet... jerky breathing... stop, I don't want to display my physical emotion... - have you forgotten anything master? - no, forgot nothing or so... we'll see about that tonight while you sleep ok? - aaaaaaaaaaah yes okokok We are called for dinner. I let him get dressed while I try to recover my physique, of course, on the loose. We join the guests where an abundant self-service buffet is served. Bastian is immediately captured by a young teenager full of smiles and questions which Bastian faces with humor and delicacy. Ah... a girlfriend would be the best thing that could happen to this little demon angel. I myself answer a lot of questions about baroque music and its instruments, about the concerts I have to give in hospitals, and about my relationship with Bastian: is it true that you didn't know him before this concert in today ? Will you continue your duets? What do you think of his playing, of his future as a virtuoso...? When everyone is satisfied, we are asked to replay something, and I immediately suggest that Bastian give his interpretation of these famous Barricades, you will see he goes there, this genius. He glares at me, holding out a finger, watch out, you'll see. In short, after this massacre of the mystery of the barricades, I ask for indulgence to slip away, I am exhausted, you see, ladies and gentlemen. I go up to rest immediately followed by this boy I really fell in love with which obviously shouldn't happen but that's how you see. A good shower now? Together ? Delirious? It would be a good way to follow up a good night's sleep with a good quiet sleep... - Bastian, are you coming to take your shower with me? - Oh yes, I'm coming! We enter together naked in this space of shared waters, both in full sexual verticality I take him in my arms and kneel down to seize him with open mouth while drawing circles of sweetness on his pretty pink balls. I'm stopping... To you now? This exchange drags on because I make sure to impose anti-ejaculatory breaks despite his frenzy ... which ends up getting the better of my reason in a jolt that makes him bang against the wall of the shower. This cleans us of our outpourings and we head together towards my bed, which Bastian designates with an imperative gesture that I do not deny. - Aren't you afraid I'll rape you? - ... He comes to place a kiss on my mouth. We slip under the sheets and he snuggles against me, sighing in relief. Awakening after a dream sleep, I make her pass her legs over mine to have access to her treasures, I gently push my cock towards her orifice which yields voluptuously and we remain thus without moving until the morning of a peaceful awakening. Another day of music awaits us but that's another story. (if you liked this story let me know at bbruno7@wanadoo.fr Thanks !)