Date: Sun, 24 Feb 2019 12:31:31 +0100 From: Larry Ryder Subject: Celloist Chapter 1 Hope you enjoy this story. All copyright is reserved to me Larry Ryder larry.ryder@mail.com [always happy to receive your comments with any suggestions! I'd like that too! Tell me how you like the story so far ] I am sure that you understand that such stories are legally managed in many jurisdictions. If you are too young (under 18 or 21), or forbidden by law, then go to (https://www.artsy.net/artist/jackson-pollock) and enjoy other artistic pursuits. Everyone suggests, and I do as well , that you should support Nifty financially [http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html] ---------- Jan-Marckus unbuttoned my shirt completely and having done that sped hurriedly to my shorts where the belt was unbuckled and zip unfurled "I am going to show you how to fuck the music," he whispered into my ear, " and hopefully you will spew your music into and over me" And with that brief kiss our lesson ended. He turned to me as I left "Do not wank! I want you back and full up tomorrow. Go home and practise" My sleep was troubled that night. On the one hand I was really having the hottest turn on of my life, and on the other I couldn't do anything to relieve it. I slept with the best erection I have ever had. But was too frightened to relieve it. The morning came too quickly. But I was ready to go. After a quick breakfast, a couple of eggs and some toast and coffee. I got to the `cello and practised for an hour and a half. Even that didn't seem enough though it was more than I usually did. Seldom did I practise before I went to gym; and it was an unusual day when I could do more than an hour But what ever J-M wanted I was not going to disappoint him. I had been taken aback by his forthright approach at my first lesson. There had been nothing to suggest sexual attraction, but clearly he had taken it as a given. It scared me a little, but I was also enthralled and very excited. I didn't know what might happen but I felt open to the challenge. My usual lesson began at 1 p.m. Madame Extraud was always punctual and didn't like it when I was late and I was there and ready every day. It surprised when she said to me a couple of weeks ago, "I think you need to have another teacher; someone who will give you stronger discipline." I wasn't sure what she meant, she had worked me hard and I had tried to please her. She had given me a couple of the Bach Cello Suites...the first one in G is almost the hardest (I now discover). My friend Avi played it for me on the mandolin. He was far better than I have ever been, but it was beautiful to play with him and he was so precise in touch. "No," said Mme Extraud, "I have heard you and Avi play and there is so much more to be brought out of you. More than I can extract. (It was a weak joke playing on her surname, and I didn't get it at the the time) "You are a man," I knew I was even though I was only 17, "and you need a man to bring out the strength that can match Avi. He, too, is a man. Very strong! Very strong indeed!" She was right. Avi was about 10 years older me, and played exquisitely. But his music was strong. His reputation was growing around the world. There weren't many mandolinists, and he was up there. Six foot two, a hundred and eighty something. With the darkest eyes and roughest chin. Even in concert he seemed rough-shaven. I was in love with him, and so were a couple of hundred thousand other people. I had been privileged to sit close and take in his scent, and to feel his caress when we had done well. But nothing had transpired. "So," Mme Extraud persisted, probably aware that I was totally lost in the infatuation of Avi the mandolinist, "I think you need another teacher who will bring out the man in you" I wanted to protest, but she waved her hand which I took to mean not to bother. I smiled and our eyes avoided each other. She had been good for me, and I didn't want to lose her. She seemed to read my thoughts, "I am not letting you go, I will always be the one who found you." A wry smile crossed her face, "but you are also my butterfly and if I clasp you in my hands I will crush you." I sort of got what she was saying, and teared up a little, "But," "But nothing," she echoed, "you know this has to happen" "I have two teachers in mind, but I think only one will do." I wondered who they were "I think our friend Avi could extract from you the very depth of your being," she looked into the distance, "But I rather think you both need a little more distance, and a chance to return" "I don't get, " I offered. "I think you will...he is too close and you are not smart enough to understand that" I obviously looked hurt. "I don't mean that you are not smart, it is that you are young and need stronger guidance. I don't think you will lose Avi. But now is not the time" "So who is this other `genius' you are suggesting" "Oh, don't be flippant," she said, "he is indeed a genius. Unorthodox, but a genius. He will extract from you the very depth of your holy musician" "What do you mean?" I asked "He will find the very depth of your spirit, and it will terrify you, but it will thrill you and ultimately it will enable you to give yourself to the whole world" I did not know what to make of all this, and I began to sob "I don't want to let you go," She held me tight. "But you must! You must!" Jan stroked my face as he welcomed me, "Today will be a special day," he suggested, "lots of work, and we will get close together." He kissed my cheek and I shivered with expectation. "Isabel has told me so much about you. She has told me you can be a man, and that is what I specialise in. ...there is more to come...comments gratefully received at larry.ryder@mail.com