Friends with Benefits

This is a piece of fiction inspired and sometimes drawn directly from my real life experiences. As with all my writing, however, it is a work of my imagination, and all similarities to living people, whether intentional or not remain fictive.

Friends with Benefits, Ch 3 The Gang Bang Duet

We performed a duet for a bachelor party.

I didn't really know the groom that well, but we had some friends in common and my husband knew the groom much better than I did. The original invitation to me and B- to perform at the bachelor party had actually gone through my husband, after the best man had heard from my husband that my ex-boyfriend B- and I were still in the same orchestra and had kept playing gigs together as a duet even after I my husband and I got married.

The duo performances were often short, 2-3 pieces to add some class to a garden party or a wedding, or playing a set of 5-6 pieces during a reception so that there would be live background music. It provided some pocket money that B- and I could split, and since we were "friends with benefits" anyway with the approval of my husband, it was another chance for me to have sex with my ex when I needed a good hard fucking.

I'm not sure why we ended up spicing it up. Maybe because it was for a bachelor party, or maybe because my husband had planted a seed in my mind when he suggested that B- and I should come up with something interesting for the gig since it was a bachelor party with a lot of guys who might not appreciate the staid serious world of classical music.

The idea was hatched while the two of us were at the bar one night after our weekly orchestra rehearsal, probably too many drinks in when we began joking about how we could spice the gig up a little. The idea began innocently enough, when we were talking about how Ravel's Bolero became famous to many people in the 1980s because there was a movie called "10" (starring the comedian Dudley Moore and the very sexy and voluptuous Bo Derek) where one of the characters suggested that Bolero was a perfect piece of music to make love to, since it has a consistent drum beat and builds and builds towards a climax in a steady way. We were joking that if we played Bolero we would probably put all of the drunken men at the bachelor party to sleep, so we needed a much more interesting piece of music.

We thought about playing a tango, which we both thought was much sexier, but then B- pointed out that the music was sexy but without two people dancing the tango, the music itself wasn't going to get anyone horny. That's when the idea of us dancing to the tango while playing it came up, but neither of us could figure out how to dance with our bodies sliding up and down on each other while also playing a cello and violin. So that was when I blurted out that we could do a strip dance instead. We both laughed and shrieked because that was even more absurd than dancing the tango while playing (it could have seemed funnier because we had already each had three drinks by then...). But then as we kept throwing crazier and funnier ideas back and forth, it occurred to both of us that it actually wasn't impossible to play and strip at the same time.

The ideas kept getting both more practical and impractical as we kept joking and drinking. At first it was just joking, but somehow by the end of the night (just before we ended up in my bedroom fucking...) we had egged each other on to take the idea seriously as we brainstormed ways to do it. Finally, six drinks in, we hatched out a way that it could actually be done. We would play three pieces of chamber music--the first would be done in a straightforward way, with me on the violin and B- on the cello just playing one of our repertoire duet pieces, and then for the second piece we would start taking clothes off while playing, a kind of classical music strip tease. The third piece would be played completely in the nude, which I had never done before, but thinking about it the idea was actually quite fun and sexy.

The next morning, I had written it off as drunken stupidity, crossed with a bit of verbal foreplay that got us both horny before we inevitably ended up having sex. That was how B- and I ended up having sex after rehearsal the first time, long before I had met the man who would become my fiancé and husband, and it was still the main reason we regularly hooked up for sex even after I had gotten married to another man. For both B- and me, the exhilaration of playing music gets us so jacked up on adrenalin that it is hard to calm down and go to sleep afterward, and so the drinks after rehearsal was at first a way of relaxing and coming down from the high of playing, but we discovered one week after a few too many drinks that an even better way to relieve all of that pent-up excitement was to fuck.

Drinks and sex after our weekly rehearsals became a regular habit, kind of our thing, but we also discovered that an actual live performance in a concert hall in front of an audience was even more of an adrenaline high than rehearsals, and rather than just one bout of sex after drinks, we usually ended up fucking all night after our monthly live concerts, and often skipping the drinks and going straight to hard and nasty sex from all that built up energy and excitement.

Still, I was surprised in the morning when B- texted me and said, seriously, that if we were going to do this gig, that we should perform at the bachelor as a three act strip down, and that he thought we really should consider ending up playing the third piece in the nude. At first, my sober reaction was that it seemed vaguely disrespectful to the music, but I have to admit that even without alcohol in me, I was at least open to the idea, and then eventually I even warmed up to it after B- suggested for the second piece of music a longer section of a concerto where there are numerous alternating points between us, when for a few measures only one of us is playing so that the other could take another piece of clothing off. Even with these alternating solo passages, we would probably still only be able to get down to our underwear by the end of the second piece, and so we would probably have to take the last piece of clothing off before or after the start of the third, but it could realistically be done, even if I still wasn't sure about the wisdom of actually doing it.

Who ever heard of bringing classical music and stripping together? Of course I know many popular female solo pianists and violinists wearing pretty revealing outfits and even obviously playing without bras or underwear underneath their skimpy clothing. But playing nude? Or taking clothes off while playing? Not something I had ever heard of being done by serious musicians. But as B- pointed out, what did being serious have to do with performing. We are both good enough to play the pieces well, especially as a duet duo, and so why not have fun and leave the audience happy?

I wouldn't be surprised if my husband was supportive, since he is a pervert/cuckold who got off masturbating while watching videos of me having sex with other men, but since he knew the groom and many of his friends would be at the party, I wondered if my husband would actually want his wife and her lover to be showing off their bodies (and their obvious comfort with each other in the nude) in front all these people he knew. And would he be ok actually being there at the bachelor party/duo performance to watch me strip naked in front of everyone?

Practically speaking, it would actually be a lot easier for me than B- to strip naked, because when performing in a duo with him, I would normally just be wearing one of my simple one piece black evening dresses without a bra underneath. I would actually have to figure out how to add a few more pieces of clothing or strip down in stages so that I could match the pace of B- stripping off his tuxedo.

B- suggested that I could wear a blouse and skirt instead of a single piece dress, and instead of not wearing underwear as I usually did, I could wear both a bra and a camisole under the blouse to give me some extra pieces of clothing to eventually take off. Sexy black stockings and a garter belt would add two more pieces to the outfit, and so ironically even though I was going to end up naked on stage, I was going to start the performance dressed up in more clothing than I normally would ever be!

As I texted back and forth with B-, occasionally updating my husband as he chipped in, here and there, shouting across the room to me with his own perverted ideas, what began the night before as a crazy drunken joke turned bit by bit into a crazy fantasy brainstorming and then into a crazy elaborate plan that we were actually going to do.

We would play the first piece fully clothed, and then the second piece we would undress in stages, taking our time to reveal bit by bit, me by unbuttoning my blouse to reveal my bra, for instance, but not pulling down the blouse until I had unclasped my bra from the front so that the audience could still only glimpse my bare breasts through my unbuttoned blouse as I continued to play. Similarly, even after I stripped down to my waist, I would take my panties off under my skirt and then stand up and play for a bit topless and without underwear before slipping the black skirt down to my ankles and stepping out. I would continue to play in my four inch high black

stilleto heels and black fishnet stockings and garter belt until the end of the second piece, showing off my breasts and shaved pubic mound while playing in a standing position. Finally, for the third and final piece I would sit and play while occasionally opening my legs and flashing the audience with a clear look at my shaved pussy.

We even came up with a pretentious name for our little duo: "La Chambre Nouvelle," and printed up some posters for the small club they had rented for the bachelor party, putting them up at the beginning of the evening since the performance was going to come near the end of the evening, after a bunch of other drinking games and typical bachelor party activities.

The best man, Phil, who had organized the party, said he wasn't going to arrange for any other entertainment (no strippers or exotic dancers needed, he said), after he heard our plans, just B- and me as a more 'high brow' form of entertainment with an erotic edge.

Even after that phone call confirming with Phil what we were going to do, a part of me was still thinking that we were never going to actually go through with it all. It just seemed too crazy, and I already began to feel stressed about how disappointed people were going to be, and how I was going to get out of following through with what we had promised.

My husband didn't help matters, to be honest, because he seemed to be overcompensating somehow by being 110% supportive. Maybe he really thought I wanted to do this, and didn't want to be the reason I backed out. Or maybe he really wanted me to do this, but the idea that my husband wanted so much for his wife to be naked in front of all of these drunk men, and naked with her lover who she had sex with more than with him (and enjoyed sex with more than with him, even worse...), bothered me in some niggling way even as I appreciated how encouraging and supportive he was every time I questioned whether this was a good idea.

In the days leading up to the bachelor party, I began to get more and more nervous. I wasn't even sure what I was getting nervous about. I had played with B- plenty of times as a duo in front of various audiences, and even when one or the other of us had made mistakes, nobody really noticed (or they didn't say anything or care if they did...), and so I wasn't worried about screwing up somehow in the performance. And since I usually wore fairly revealing slinky outfits and no underwear when I performed with B- I knew that I wasn't nervous because I was afraid of being seen as too slutty or sexually loose! If I had a reputation already, it was because I was already known to be a bit immodest in how I dress and act.

In fact, the little black dresses I often wore when we played our duets was pretty revealing, and I knew that during many energetic passages my size D breasts often shook and shimmied in ways that left little to the imagination. Most people have an image of Asian women as tiny with small breasts, and so I know that when people see a petite Japanese woman of my height having such large firm breasts on such a thin body, there is a reason they are surprised and stare.

At least this time I would be wearing a lacy black bra and g-string bikini panties half the time! I know I might not be as slutty in my outward appearance as a lot of other women, but for the world of classical music performers, I had long ago decided to not try and hide my petite (5'2) hourglass (35-23-35) body, and to be proud to show off my curves. If they saw my cleavage or my outfit left nothing to the imagination about what was underneath, I welcomed the attention and staring. To be honest, I didn't think I was offending anyone by sharing the physical assets I was happy to have been born with, nor did I think people would mind seeing my nipples poke through the light sheer fabric of my dress when I got excited. I actually loved that feeling of my nipples swelling from the cool friction of rubbing against the silk material of my dresses as I played, and at many symphonic performances I could smell the musky scent of my pussy as I got ever more excited from playing the music.

Some pieces get me especially horny--the last movement of Shostakovich's Symphony No. 5 for instance--to the point that the intense concentration of playing the first three movements and building ever slowly up to the climax of the finale led me to once actually have an orgasm sitting in my seat while playing the closing measures. It wasn't exactly the same as an orgasm during sex, of course, but the waves of pleasure and rippling convulsions through my body were similar, and from the flood of juices that gushed from my pussy (and which filled the air around me with the scent of sex...), it felt just like a sexual climax. My stand mate must have agreed, because he stared at me with curiosity afterward, and must have noticed both my quivering body (my arms were trembling uncontrollably...) and the overpowering odor of my cunt filling the air around us. I saw his nostrils twitch as he sampled the musky miasma of my sexual excitement, clearly recognizing the smell of my secretions.

So I've never been good at hiding that playing beautiful music moves me more than most other people. I love sex with white men. And I love European classical music. And it's no accident that both of those became connected for me.

I didn't understand why I was feeling nervous, but I was feeling particularly stressed a few days before the night of the bachelor party, when B- and I were driving home from our weekly orchestra rehearsal. He asked if I wanted to go get a drink but I asked him whether we could go straight to his apartment and have a drink there instead. I was feeling shaky and wired, a combination of the usual adrenaline high from playing for two hours at the rehearsal, mixed with the nervous energy of thinking about our upcoming duet. We got out of the elevator and before he could even finish putting the keys in his door I was grabbing his crotch and rubbing my body up against his thigh. "I'm so horny--we have to fuck..."

He didn't say a word, just lifted me up and carried me through his door way (he's over a foot taller than me, and its always been easy for him to pick my 99lbs up into his arms and carry me around, even when I'm mounted onto his 8" cock and he is moving my body up and down his long shaft while carrying me, something that my much smaller husband--both in terms of his height and the size of his 4" cock--could never do...). We didn't even make it to his bed, he pulled my underwear aside with one hand while unzipping his pants with his other and fucked me on his kitchen counter, entering into my already wet and swollen cunt with one smooth motion. He must have smelled my sexual excitement in the closed air of the elevator, or maybe during the car ride too, because he was already rock hard and ready to go. We fucked like wild animals on the counter, on his kitchen floor, all over his apartment with our clothes still on, until my panties were soaked and ripped from his fingering my ass as he fucked my cunt. I came within minutes harder than I had for months, maybe even years, squealing like an injured beast as my whole body shook and convulsed.

After we fucked and I came again, this time in his bedroom after tearing off our clothes, he turned me over face down on his bed and grunted that he wanted to fuck my "tight ass," placing the tip of his engorged cock against my asshole and teasing me, rubbing it up and down and pushing the tip in and out to relax my sphincter. "Push out, push my cock out like you're taking a shit...I'm going to give you the butt fucking you need, you dirty ass slut..." His dirty talk drove me wild, the words eliciting a deep groan as I pushed and squeezed my rectal muscles, alternately tightening and loosening my anus.

"You're such a dirty ass slut..." he growled, just as he timed his next push to slide past my puckering asshole, delving deep all the way into my bowels with one hard thrust without even lubing my anal opening. His cock was so slick with my pussy juices that he slid into my ass without pausing, withdrawing halfway before plunging back in again all the way balls deep. I screamed in shock and surprise, and not a small amount of pain, but the burning began to fade and turn into a dull throbbing as he began fucking me hard and deep from above, his hips driving me down into the mattress with each long stroke down while I lay prone on my stomach on his bed.

The feeling of being pinned down--speared from above by his 8 inch shaft like a captured butterfly impaled on a giant pin--made me writhe and squirm and scream, but my body is so tiny compared to his that despite my flailing in agony and ecstasy underneath the assault of his thrusting cock, his body barely moved except for his hard pumping hips.

When he dropped me off at home at 6am (so I had enough time to get ready for work), we had fucked for over 7 hours, and I knew that much of our excitement had been built up from anticipation of our imminent duo act at the bachelor party. I knew at that moment, as my husband opened the front door to welcome me home, that I was not going to back out of the performance, no matter how apprehensive or nervous I felt beforehand.

***

On the day of the duet, as we were getting ready in the late afternoon practicing our routine in his apartment, I was so full of nerves that he suggested we indulge in the favourite pastime of many musicians, bringing out a huge joint from one of his kitchen drawers. So many musicians seem to constantly smoke weed, but I had never really liked getting high. He said it would help me relax. He also brought out pair of small pills and asked whether I wanted some of these to relax as well. I knew immediately what they were, even though I had never seen them before, because several months ago I had asked him what it was like to take XTC (knowing that he often took it with his friends and fellow musicians as well as with his other lovers when then would go to raves). I had told him that I wanted to try it someday with him, and he had immediately said he would set something up. I immediately guessed that this was what these two pills were.

"Will I like it...?" I asked. "It will help with your nerves, even more than the pot...the molly should take a half hour or so to kick in, so plenty of time before we play." I was feeling so anxious at that moment that I said "why not..." and we both swallowed a tab, chasing it with a glass of wine and the massive joint.