A Lovers Concerto

Although Susan had been raised as a "back row Baptist," she was sitting in the front pew of the church. That was of course only customary for such occasions. It should have been more comforting to see that the sanctuary was so crowded. The front pews were more than crowded.

Susan's baby who was almost a toddler had insisted on squeezing in to nestle under her arm rather than sit in her lap. The boy was blonde, just like his father as well as his mother. The child was seeking solace more than nourishment by pressing his lips against the side of Susan's right breast.

The tactile sensation through the black, satin bodice of her dress and the lingerie underneath was having the predictable effect. Susan could feel her mother's milk beginning to leak from her nipples. A glance downward confirmed that two, damp patches on the bodice of her dress were gradually growing. Fortunately; no one seemed to have yet noticed the subtle evidence of her maternal distress.

Susan might have been tempted to nurse the child to comfort him as well as herself. Although she'd been considered a prude when she was younger, she'd never been averse to nursing in public, even during church services. Unfortunately; her fashion choices for this service had been limited. The neckline of her black dress was at her throat as it should be for this solemn ceremony. The zipper was at the back. All eyes were upon her. Nursing her youngest child during this service would just be to indiscrete.

Susan was surrounded by her three other children. Her eldest, newlywed daughter had also inherited blonde hair from her mother and father. The young bride was accompanied by her husband. Her swollen breasts and gently bulging belly attested to the presence of her unborn baby. However; the simple, church wedding a few weeks earlier had been expedited more to enable the father of the eager, young bride to proudly walk his daughter down the aisle as best he could rather than to salvage the young woman's reputation.

Susan had noticed a few knowing smiles amongst her family, congregants and friends during the wedding and subsequent reception. Fortunately; no one had chastised or condemned her daughter for being an eager, young bride. Nothing new was under the sun. Not only Susan but her mother and mother's mother had been eager young brides. Even under normal circumstances, new life was far to precious for such condemnation and nastiness, even if that new life attested to certain premarital indiscretions.

There had been somewhat more consternation as well as gossipy innuendos amongst their family as well as the congregation about the groom. However; the predominant attitude had truly been bemusement rather than outrage. Some of the more mature matrons had even seemed to be a bit jealous. Susan's new son-in-law was Black.

Unfortunately; Susan's first grandbaby would never know either of his grandfathers. Perhaps he'd remember the sound of his maternal Grandpa's voice from when he was still in utero? Steve had been talking as much to the unborn child as his daughter whenever she visited him at the hospital then during his final months of hospice at home. The unborn child had responded as best he could with exuberant, most uncomfortable yet cherished, kicking and writhing within his mother's womb.

Susan's other two progeny, the teenagers, were blonde haired and blue eyed just like their eldest and youngest siblings. They'd always been the quintessential American family. However; their Aryan ancestry had always been secondary to their national allegiance. Their allegiance had been unwavering even during the First World War as well as the Second. The North American Baptist Conference had been founded during the First World War. It had become not just awkward but somewhat dangerous for the descendants of America's more recent immigrants to identify themselves as German Baptists. So much for white privilege.

Susan's immediate family were not alone in their grief. The Scandinavians had joined the Germans for this ceremony. Her mother-in-law, father-in-law, two brothers-in-laws and three sisters-in-laws surrounded them. Steve had been more than just her husband and the father of their children. He'd been a son to his parents as well as a brother to his siblings and brother-in-law to their spouses. He had been a nephew to his aunts and uncles as well as a cousin to his cousins who were in attendance.

The funeral service was almost over. The vocal trio were just finishing Nightbird that had been written and made famous by Stevie Nicks. Few people understood just how appropriate that song was for such an occasion. The haunting lyrics resonated with Susan's grief.

Only one song remained to be sung. Although the program for the service didn't disclose the final song, Susan recognized the familiar melody even before the pianist and violinist had played the first half dozen notes. She should. Susan taught music, band as well as choir, at the local high school.

Most people mistakenly attributed the classic melody to Johan Sebastian Bach. The minuet in G Major had actually been written by Christian Petzhold. However; there was another, far more meaningful reason for Susan to recognize not just the melody but the lyrics of the song that had so nearly topped the record charts over half a century ago.

Steve's death had not been a surprise. His cancer had gone into remission. However; he'd delayed for to long before submitting to an orchiectomy. He'd waited even longer before he'd agreed to the far more invasive retroperitoneal lymph node dissection. Aside from not wanting to suffer the side effects and humiliation of loosing his testicles, her husband had wanted to sire one last child. While he would have been elated to have another daughter, he'd been hoping and praying for a boy to carry on the family name. His prayers had been answered.

The recurrence of Steve's cancer had been sudden and brutal as well as undeniably terminal. It had seemed that his testicular cancer had also metastasized into prostate cancer. The surgery that had rendered him impotent had been futile.

Steve hadn't wasted what little time that remained to him. He had made final arrangements. Susan's late husband had been very specific with his requests. For some mysterious reason, he had tasked his attorney to assist his grieving widow with certain confidential funeral arrangements. The attorney had executed Steve's wishes by recruiting these singers.

Obviously; Steven had researched carefully to discover this local trio. Once she recognized this final song, Susan understood why her late husband had requested that this group perform at his funeral. The three, young, almost teenaged, Black women looked as well as sounded so much like the beautiful trio who had originally made the song a hit over half a century ago. The Supremes as well as "the divine one," sassy Sarah Vaughn, had also covered the song, each in their own very special way. However; this particular trio was faithfully emulating the original arrangement. That was understandable. This version had been special to Steve and Susan.

Susan blushed as the song evoked the precious memories of her somewhat shameful behavior. The gradual evolution of the opening solo into the escalating complexity of the harmonies reminded her of that fateful afternoon hike two decades ago. Susan had been in her Junior year of college that Spring day. The sun had been shining when their hike began. They hadn't worn their jackets. The sudden rainstorm had caught them unprepared. Seeking shelter from the rain, they'd felt compelled to huddle under the outstretched branches of an evergreen tree.

Always the Boy Scout, Steve had quickly gathered fallen twigs and branches to build a fire to warm them. Eventually; the rain had abated and the sun had returned. The merely damp grass under that tree had become the perfect picnic venue.

As she listened to the opening lyrics, Susan understood why this song was the perfect commemoration of that fateful day. As the trio sang the final verses she realized that the song that commemorated Steve's death was intended to comfort her. Few people would understand because few were fully cognizant of the lyrics of the final verses:

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

A LOVERS CONCERTO.

Written by Sandy Kinzer and Denny Randell.

----------

"How gentle is the rain

That falls softly on the meadow?

Birds, high up in the trees

Serenade the clouds with their melodies

--------

Oh, see, there beyond the hill

The bright colors of the rainbow

Some magic from above

Made this day for us just to fall in love

---------

Now, I belong to you

From this day until forever

Just love me tenderly

And I'll give to you every part of me"

-------

Listening to the song evoked Susan's memories of that fateful day. The rain had abated. The clouds had receded. Their very own rainbow had been revealed to them. With Steve's encouragement, Susan had spread her picnic blanket on the damp grass. She'd begun to serve the meal that she'd prepared.

Steven had coyly suggested that they take off their wet clothes so that they wouldn't get the blanket wet. Their clothes could be hung up to dry from branches above the fire while they ate. Although they hadn't been paragons of virtue during their courtship, his request had seemed somewhat unseemly. That date had been only a tentative reconciliation.

Susan hadn't been offended. Their estrangement had been her fault. Steve 's jealousy and resentment had been justified. His salacious suggestion had not been unprecedented. Like so many other respectable couples, they'd frequently indulged in heavy petting during their courtship. They'd gone hot tubing and even skinny dipping on previous dates. However; the meadow wasn't as private as Steve's car. It wasn't a remote hot spring where casual public nudity was not just socially acceptable but expected.

Susan had been surprised to find herself stripping out of her skirt and blouse. However; she had refused to relinquish her bra and panty. They'd encountered to many other hikers on the trail. She'd been acutely aware that her damp lingerie was far from opaque. The damp fabric of her panty had barely obscured her dark pubic hair that attested to her Germanic genealogy. Her pubic hair had often provoked unfounded accusations that she was a bottled blonde. Her pink nipples and then small, aureoles were also evident through the damp fabric of her bra. However; she'd rationalized that her damp lingerie wasn't to risqué. Her bra and panty might even be mistaken for a bikini, at least from a distance.

To his credit, Steven had waited until they had finished eating the fried chicken, pork and baked beans, and potato salad that Susan had prepared for their picnic before he exploited the opportunity to seduce her. Although they were in a wide open meadow rather than in the backseat of Steven's old car and it was broad daylight rather than dark, Susan hadn't resisted. She'd eagerly yielded when she felt him pulling her panty down over her then not so wide and maternal hips.

The familiar sensation of Steven's lips and tongue ministering to her sex was divine. He sucked on her clitoris, then plunged his tongue deeper until she could feel it exploring her hymen. The sensations had soon brought Susan to climax.

Steve had then kissed his way up Susan's flat, firm belly to her breasts. His not so fumbling fingers had sought the familiar clasp between the cups of her bra. When Steven's lips finally left her naked breasts to seek her lips, Susan had made no effort to keep her thighs pressed demurely together. As his tongue explored her mouth, she was acutely aware of his obviously erect penis that was so perilously close to her unprotected sex. She hadn't protested nor quietly fended off his male member.

As always, Steven had been patient and gentle with Susan. It wasn't the first time that she'd yielded so shamelessly to such an invasion, and not just to Steven. She'd allowed him to rub his penis in her unshaven pubic hair, then along her labia and against her clitoris.

Not for the first time, Susan had felt the glans of Steve's somewhat slender, circumcised penis penetrating her. Once again, the invasion didn't provoke the discomfort of their first such flirtations with indiscretion. During the months that he'd been away, she'd frequently felt another much girthier penis tentatively exploring the vestibule of her vagina. Steve's penis penetrated her until she could feel the tip pressing against her hymen that had become somewhat dilated yet had miraculously remained intact.

Not for the first time, Susan felt her hymen dilating, but just a bit more. Steve had restrained himself. He hadn't allowed his invading penis to intrude further. He'd been content to simply confirm his hopes. While her hymen was dilated, the precious membrane had remained intact during the weeks of their estrangement. Although she hadn't remained cloistered like a nun in a convent, her flower had not yet been plucked since last they met. Steve was satisfied. The implications as well as her perilous situation were even more arousing than the divine sensations.

Only a semblance of sanity had asserted itself that fateful afternoon. They'd played this game before, far more than once. Steve hadn't been the only man that Susan had played this game with either. However; on that special day, she had remembered that she'd been menstruating almost two weeks earlier. She'd been in the most fertile phase of her cycle. Although she had been acutely aware of the risk that she was flirting with yet again, she'd been eager to flirt with that risk.

Susan's previous period had been more than a few days late. She had been compelled to discuss her suspected pregnancy, and not just with Steven. Their situation had been far more complicated than it might have been. It was fraught with not only paternal uncertainty but possible stigmatization.

Susan and Steve had been dating seriously but only intermittently, for almost two years. Steven had seldom been home from deployment during those futile wars against terrorism. Back then, few had understood the futility of trying to wage war against a martial technique much less export democracy at the point of a bayonet. Steve's prospects for survival had been uncertain. Neither of them had been ready to make a commitment.

Steve hadn't been presumptuous enough to presume that Susan would remain cloistered like a nun in a convent while he was deployed. She hadn't been deceitful. She'd made no secret of the fact that she was invoking her right to date other men. Unfortunately; casually dating other men had gradually evolved into seriously dating another man.

When Steven finally returned home from deployment, Susan hadn't been deceitful with either of her suitors. Although she'd quickly rekindled her relationship with Steven, she'd been ambivalent and conflicted. She hadn't ended her relationship with her other suitor. Her dating hadn't been exclusive to either of her suitors. Eventually; she had failed to begin menstruating when expected. A test had tentatively confirmed that while she remained technically a virgin, she was probably pregnant! The paternal uncertainty had greatly complicated her predicament.

Given the situation, Steve had been understandably reticent about making a commitment. However; he had been willing to accept responsibility if it became necessary. Susan's other suitor had been even more ambivalent. Their romantic triangle was actually a romantic quadrangle. Susan's other suitor had another girlfriend who had recently learned that she to was in similar circumstances. Shakira hadn't been as circumspect as Susan. Shakira couldn't piously rationalize that she had remained a virgin. However; unlike Susan, Shakira had been monogamous. The paternity of her as yet unborn baby hadn't been uncertain.

All four members of the romantic quadrangle had been relieved when Susan's menstruation finally began two weeks late. Perhaps the test had been a false positive. Her unusually intense menstruation had suggested that it was far more likely that Susan had indeed been pregnant but had suffered an early miscarriage. Whatever the truth, the belated beginning of Susan's menstruation had enabled their romantic quadrangle to dissolve.

On that fateful afternoon in the meadow, Susan had whispered, "we really shouldn't risk it. Not again. I'm in the middle of my cycle!"

Steve had relented. Susan had rewarded him by kissing her way from his loving lips down his chest and belly. Unlike Susan, Steve had blonde pubic hair that attested that his genealogy was Scandinavian rather than Germanic. Her mouth had sought his penis. Once again, Steve quietly accepted her largesse. He'd never asked any awkward questions about when and why she'd so suddenly become not just willing but eager as well as adept at performing fellatio on him. He hadn't interrogated her about how many men she'd pleasured orally much less who.

Susan hadn't been a complete novice at performing fellatio when Steven began courting her. She'd become far more adept at the proper techniques during the many months of his most recent deployment. Coaching from her other, more experienced as well as assertive paramours had taught her well. Susan tilted her head at just the right angle to enable Steve's penis to penetrate further until her nose was nuzzling his blonde pubic hair.

The hands that gently caressed Susan's head that day had only encouraged rather than coerced her. Steve had once again and predictable uttered, "God I'm amazed that you can deep throat me." Susan hadn't responded. She'd been taught that it was impolite to talk when her mouth was full.

Susan had also been perceptive enough to know that she shouldn't tell Steve that his penis wasn't such a great challenge. She'd performed fellatio on other penises that were longer or thicker. Only one had been both longer and thicker. She wasn't certain that Steve would be reassured to know that she'd also pleasured a few penises that had been shorter or thinner. Her oral talents had enabled her to remain a virgin during her teenaged years as well as during her college years.

Unlike some of the other guys that Susan had dated, Steve was always a gentleman. He'd once again warned her when he was about to ejaculate. She really wouldn't have found it objectionable if he had ejaculated without warning her. The flavor of semen had never been that distasteful to Susan. Shaquille's semen had actually been delicious.

Susan had learned from experience that simply allowing a guy to ejaculate down her throat was the simplest, easiest way to cope with such situations. She had also learned that letting guys cum in her mouth was problematic. Susan had learned that deciding if she should spit or swallow was fraught with implications. Spitting seemed to be a rude rejection. Swallowing could be even more problematic.

Susan had discovered that some of the same guys who had been offended when she spit had treated her as if she was a whore when she swallowed. Fortunately; Steve had always been to polite to object to Susan withdrawing so that his penis slipped out of her mouth. As was her habit with him, she'd embraced his penis between her breasts. She'd been rewarded by the sensation of his semen ejaculating into her then not quite so spectacular cleavage.

The timing of Steve's ejaculation had been fortuitous that fateful day. They'd soon heard a group of hikers approaching. While Steve had rushed to put his pants back on, Susan had frantically pulled her bra closed to fasten the clasp. Although experience had taught her that the translucent, micromesh fabric would become almost transparent when wet, it was better than nothing.

Rather than merely pass by, the quartet of hikers had approached them. They'd felt compelled to warn them that the footbridge ahead had been washed out. Susan had belatedly and frantically pressed her thighs together demurely to conceal her naked vulva as best she could. She'd been unable to conceal the semen that coated her breasts and soaked her bra.