Prelude:
"Stop. Stop. It's too sensitive. I cant take any more!" Liv pushed against the top of his head while simultaneously clamping her thighs on his ears.
Martin said something muffled. The vibration and escaping air of his words tickled swollen lips. Blessedly, he stopped savaging her clitoris. Sudden relief produced the contented smile that had been warring with intense expressions on her face.
"God. That was unbelievable!" She giggled.
"I'm glad you liked it. It's a crime nobody went down on you before."
"Thank you."
"It was my pleasure. I'll treasure this memory in my spank bank."
"Hey. That's not the deal. This is 'Never Happened Night.' This never happened!"
"Well, technically, it's 'Never Happened Hour,' and that ended ten minutes ago when your pussy was trying to swallow my face."
"Never Happened Hour" had been a tradition on campus for decades. On the night when clocks were set back, events that transpired during the missing/repeated hour never happened. It usually coincided with Halloween parties, slutty costumes, excessive drinking, and coed curiosity. Liv spent her first "Never Happened Hour" performing an impromptu drunken strip tease for the girls in her dormitory suite and enjoyed her first passionate kiss from a girl. She hadn't planned to do anything like that again, but when Martin brought her a shot and asked her what naughty sexy thing she most wanted and never done, Liv inadvisedly admitted, "I'd love to be eaten."
One thing lead to another and the suede panties of her "Barbarian Princess" costume were balled up in her fist. Hot breath mingled with the scent of her own arousal. Martin's cheeks pressed against her thighs, and his tongue danced within her folds. It was delicious. It was frightening. After her orgasm, it was torture.
"Shit Martin! You aren't going to tell anybody are you?"
"That depends. Do you want to go again?"
"No. No. I have an appointment with my voice coach first thing in the morning."
"Speaking of that," he crooned in between nibbling and kissing at the edges of her pubic hair. "We need more singers for our musical production of "Les Liaisons Dangereuses."
"I've never acted, and I get stage fright singing in the back row of the choir."
"If you at least audition, I'll forget the way you're dripping on my chin right now." He smiled mischievously.
"I don't want to audition. I'm not that good. I was as surprised as anybody when I got my partial scholarship. I still think somebody made a mistake."
"They don't make mistakes. After all, they gave me a full scholarship. They know what they're doing."
"Exactly! You'll get a part for sure. It's just a waste of time for me."
"I think you're the most talented sophomore I've ever met, but you're probably right. If they aren't going to cast you, you have nothing to lose by auditioning."
"Quit teasing me. Seriously! You can't tell anybody about this. There's a guy I like. If he hears about this, he'll never ask me out again."
"Listen. I don't normally lick and tell, but this is for a good cause. The director is my best friend, and all of the proceeds go to "The Green Place."
"What's that?"
"It's a charity that plants trees and sponsors urban green fields. We're starting gardens in abandoned lots throughout the city next year. We need about fifty thousand for taxes, insurance, and maintenance for the greenhouse where we start the trees and stuff."
"That's a lot of money. How much have you raised so far?"
"We haven't raised much, but a bunch of us have been volunteering our time. There are just some things we can't accomplish without money. Ticket sales, t-shirts, and donations will raise at least ten thousand. If the show's as much of a hit as we hope, we could raise all of the money."
"When is the audition, and what should I sing?" She sighed.
"Open auditions are from 3:00 to 5:00 the rest of this week. Sign up for a time slot in the foyer of Rike Hall. Sing something from a musical or 80's pop."
"How many people are they going to cast?"
"It's a big production. The music is mostly original and scored for lots of voices. There are some choir parts and a big ballroom musical number with forty people on stage. A lot of dancers are needed too."
"Alright. If you promise that tonight never happened, I'll promise to audition. OK?"
"In that case, let me taste you one more time!"
Martin nuzzled into her. He kept away from her hot button, so the result was more playful than stimulating.
"Stop. Stop. Enough! I've got to run."
-----
Encounter:
"Hey Liv! Wait up."
"Hey Dan. Was Professor Gordon hard on you this morning?"
"He was about his usual cheerful self. How about you?"
"He said he wasn't too disappointed by my chest voice. He wants me to take yoga to strengthen core muscles."
"Wow! That's high praise from Maestro Hard Ass. He just tells me to climb out of legato hell and articulate for once."
They both laughed causing heads to turn in their direction. "Articulate! Articulate!" was Professor Gordon's mantra. He once made the freshman choir chant "Articulate" for a whole hour until he could hear all four syllables clearly at any tempo.
Dan looked into Liv's eyes while they enjoyed the moment. "Do you want to grab some lunch with me?"
"That sounds great, but I have to swing by Rike for a moment first."
"Oh, what's at Rike?"
"I promised an acquaintance I would audition for the spring musical. The sign-up sheet is there."
"You surprise me! I don't know that I have the nerve to try out for that. I'm impressed."
"I know. I have terrible stage fright. I just think about all those people in the audience and I cringe."
"Why are you doing it then?"
"It's for a good cause. I don't think I'll get a part anyway. I don't act, and there are plenty of better voices on campus. I guess I'm just doing it for the experience. I need to get used to rejection."
Dan shrugged in partial disbelief. If she was brave enough, he could try too. "Do you mind if I sign up too?"
"Sure, it'll be fun. Let's see if we can get audition times close together."
-----
Audition:
The stage manager opened the door as Liv and Dan walked up hand in hand. "Good. You're on time. Dan is it? You're up first. Give your music to the pianist. You - girl - what's your name?" The harried upperclassman consulted his clipboard. "Liv, hurry to the wardrobe room over there. See if there's a costume to fit you."
The wardrobe was an impressive collection of 18th century finery. A skinny guy wrapped a tape measure around her waist as soon as she crossed the threshold into his domain. He leaned back to appraise her thoroughly with a squint. Liv suddenly felt like a self conscious side of beef in the butcher shop window.
"You'll do. Try on the lavender courtesan dress over there."
"This one?"
"No, try the one hanging on the back of the chair."
"Is there someplace I can change?"
"Oh honey! This is theater." He said it with an exaggerated lisp.
Liv managed to squeak, "I'm really self conscious." Her chest was tightening in panic, and her throat felt like sandpaper.
The skinny guy looked impatient. "I've seen half the girls on this campus, and not one has gotten a rise out of me yet. Now, that stage manager is something else."
Liv rationalized: it would be OK since the guy was gay. The door to the wardrobe room hung wide open, so she scurried into the back corner for maximum privacy. With socks, shoes, and her folded trousers on a chair beside her, she stepped into the fancy gown. It was snug when pulled over her hips. It tugged her panties into an irritating wedgie. She simultaneously hauled up the bodice and jerked her sweater over her head.