Wednesday, 13 July 2011

Play on, give me excess of it...

I love music, and who can blame me? Music is the most powerful median in the world, and one of the most precious forms of art. I sing, and I dance, and I play... sometimes at the same time. And when I'm not engaged in wordsmithery or self-indulgence, you'll find music coming from the speakers attached to my computer. I love music, and it makes up a huge part of my life.

After putting my own band on hiatus for a while, 47 inducted me into his band. So I'm now the guitarist in a band, which - I suppose - is cool. And we rehearse on Sunday. In addition, Monday saw me return to the world of open mike, which - despite what I thought was initially dodgy sound balance - actually came out pretty well. So I've had a pretty musical week, all told. And of course I love the music in soft porn, and I bemoan the lack of music in hard porn. I even once masturbated for the length of a whole Barenaked Ladies album, constructing different sex scenes in my head for each song.

But this evening went a bit too far.

For years and years my mother has been in what could loosely be termed a folk band. She calls it "music group," which is probably closer to the truth. She plays the flute - badly - and the group has grown from the days it was a few descant recorders and me on my violin. People joined in, like my dad on guitar, and people changed instruments, with squeezeboxes, various wind instruments and percussion come and go. I left the group. But occasionally they meet up here, in the back lounge, which is directly under my room.

I was trying to masturbate this evening. I had sexy pictures involving hats to bolster my horniness, which had been building throughout the day. I knew my parents were downstairs, so I didn't need to be too careful. I locked my door anyway, and started exploring.

I was accompanied almost immediately by a crescendo of folk music from downstairs.

At least it wasn't as dischordant as it used to be. Nevertheless, it was slightly off-putting. I kept going though, because to be frank, I really needed an orgasm. I've done enough damage today, and needed to get a positive note in somewhere. And so did they, only they didn't seem to notice. But I was getting there... slowly but surely, I was becoming more and more aroused. The background music was becoming... well... background music.

I was almost at the point of orgasm when...

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Can I come in?"
"The door's locked."
"Yes, I can see that."
"Can I help you?"
"We need some percussion instruments downstairs," pleaded my mother. "Your auntie just arrived and she doesn't have anything to play."
"I'll be down in a few minutes," I replied.
"There's cake down here," said my mother.
"I'll be there instantly," I said, fastening my trousers, grabbing a tambourine and heading downstairs. No orgasm was worth it, I reasoned, for the temporary respite of cake.

3 comments:

Catharine said...

What a dilemma, cake or orgasms!

Were you masturbating to trilbies?

Innocent Loverboy said...

1) I had both in the end. But not at the same time.

2) How did you guess?

Catharine said...

I've never had cake and an orgasm at the same time either, despite occasionally getting naked with it.

And I have psychic powers, remember? Okay, they're usually related to icecream, but maybe I'm getting better.