It was a windy day the kind that would have been great weather for kite flying, and Randall Taft greatly wished he was doing that very thing instead of sitting in another boring lecture. His parents had given him an ultimatum recently that he either get a full-time job or go back to school and he had chosen what he saw as the lesser of the two evils. What he wanted to be doing was playing his guitar and writing songs. He and his best friend from high school, Zach Meyer, had formed a band four years earlier called "Loose Change." It was kind of a Pop/Metal outfit with an emphasis on the catchy hooks. They had enjoyed some minor success playing local clubs and putting out an occasional song on free download websites, but things had not exactly taken off for them.
"We can see here that Steinbeck was commenting on the human condition in his work," droned the stodgy looking professor.
Randall shook himself feeling his head dropping toward his chest. This was the third time in the last hour he had nearly fallen asleep listening to the monotone voice of his teacher. He couldn't even describe the sweet relief he felt when the clock finally struck the top of the hour, and he was freed from his educational prison. The students burst from the door to the classroom and scattered like balls on a pool table hit by a perfect break moving in all directions while Randall lagged slightly behind. He could hear them talking about their weekend plans making noises about where they would go or what fun they had in store while he faced another quiet weekend alone.
When the band didn't have a gig or a rehearsal, Randall spent most of his time in his room writing and thinking up new music or practicing endlessly on his guitar. He had never been a very social kid growing up. The intricacies of dating and making small talk with women had always seemed to elude him. It wasn't that he was a bad looking kid, quite the contrary, as he had filled out after high school he had grown into a strapping young man nearly six-feet tall with long, dark hair that fell in layers over his broad shoulders. His dark green eyes were vaguely almond shaped lending him a sort of exotic look with thick eyebrows and full, generous lips like a young Rob Lowe. He would have girls come up to him sometimes after shows, but his natural shyness prevented him from having any success getting to know any of them. The few dates he tried to go out on typically went badly as he stumbled through awkward, stilted conversations.
The crowd thinned as he made his way toward the parking lot pulling his keys from the pocket of his well-worn jeans and getting into his battered Ford Mustang to drive home. The engine roared to life startling a big, fat grackle that had been perched on his hood looking as if it was preparing to shit on his paint job.
"Serves you right, asshole," commented Randall to himself as the frightened bird flew quickly into the sky leaving a burst of feathers behind.
The drive home took him past the center of town where he spied small groups of college students milling around at the various restaurants and bars. He felt a wistful longing for a moment, but it quickly passed. The social scene was one he typical viewed from the top of a stage and more often than not he was too caught up in his guitar playing to notice the people.
His parents were both at work when he arrived home, and Randall made his way to his room tossing his keys on the bed. The well-worn wood of his first acoustic guitar nestled against his stomach as he sat in the cushioned swivel chair at his desk. He strummed a few cords trying to recall the riff that had been banging around inside his head while he had been showering that morning. The chair creaked a bit as he swung around in it trying to focus his thoughts only to be distracted again when he saw the blinking icon on his computer screen.
The guys in the band were Randall's only friends and practically the only people he talked to on a regular basis with one exception. His hands danced across the keyboard with practiced ease typing out a message.
"I'm here. Just got back from class."
The words appeared at the bottom of the chat window that occupied a good bit of the screen. His username, "Guitarboy21" flashed at the top. There was a brief delay while the user on the other side of the digital connection typed a reply. Her username was "BrightSparrow," and they had met initially on a guitar enthusiasts forum about six months prior. She had been downloading some of the songs his band put out and loved his guitar playing. When she realized during their exchange of messages on the forum that he was indeed the same guitar player from Loose Change she had asked for his private instant message account so they could have easier more free-form discussions.
"How did it go?"
"Boring as usual..."
"You are meant for greater things...like being a guitar God!"
Randall laughed to himself reading her response. He and BrightSparrow had really hit it off. They had slowly evolved in their interactions over time moving from talking exclusively about music and guitars to many other subjects including politics, social issues, and whether Star Wars or Star Trek was better. The shyness that usually kept him from connecting with women seemed to melt away when he was behind the keyboard.
"What do you think of this I just got it for the beach?"
A moment after her post she followed with a picture that showed her clad in a green bikini. The top was cropped, so it didn't show her face but what it did show looked gorgeous. The woman in the photo had fair skin with curly Auburn hair that fell in gentle folds around her shoulders. She had a decent sized pair of beautiful, round breasts that pushed out the top of her bikini, and long legs that were quite muscular marking her as a runner perhaps, or a dancer.
"Looks amazing on you. You will definitely turn heads."
"You're so sweet! I think I need to lose a few more pounds before summer."
"You're nuts! That suit looks perfect on you. The guys will go wild."
"Are you alone?"
Randall's hands froze over the keyboard for a moment, and he licked his lips before typing his response.
"Yes."
"Good. Because I have a reward for you being so sweet."
Another brief delay and then a new photo popped up in the chat window. This time the bikini top was missing and BrightSparrow's naked breasts were on display. She was holding one in each hand lifting them slightly toward the camera. The flesh was smooth, flawless, with wide, dark pink areolas covered in little bumps and two very perky pink nipples at the center of each.
"Damn! You look beautiful," he typed with some difficulty his hands shaking on the keyboard.
"Thanks! You know what I wish?"
"What?"
"That you were here to suck on these hard nipples..."
Randall swallowed feeling his cock beginning to swell in his jeans. This had been a new wrinkle in his exchanges with BrightSparrow that had started just a few weeks earlier when they had been talking about the social conventions of dating one night. In the process, she had asked him about his own dating experiences, and he had admitted he didn't have many and no real success stories which had brought out the fact that he was a virgin. BrightSparrow had found that fascinating, and during the back and forth that followed the conversation had taken a turn into a very different place. When she had sent him a picture of herself from the waist up but minus a shirt showing her white, lacy bra Randall had nearly choked on his Pepsi. They had slowly started to send more an more suggestive messages back and forth until they had a full-blown sexting session going on.
In all his life, Randall had never imagined doing anything like what he was doing right now. He glanced over at the door to his room and quickly got up and pulled it closed.
"I wish I was too. I would lick and suck those gorgeous nips so hard for you."
"Is your cock hard?
"Fuck, Yes!"
"Touch it for me...Show me..."
Nervous energy poured into his body as Randall stood and unbuckled his belt while unzipping his jeans and pushing them to the floor. He slipped his boxers down around his ankles letting his thick, hairy cock which already stood fully erect drop outward from his body. This part always made him shake the worst, and it took him multiple tries to get the camera on his computer to focus as he zoomed it in on his crotch finally managing to snap a non-blurry picture. He uploaded it to the chat window.
"Umm...I do have an effect on you don't I naughty boy?"
"Yes. You always do. I'm so ready for you."
"I can tell. Do you want me to suck your cock big boy?"
