It's all in the Structure
A short little thing I wrote. If you don't know anything about music, that's fine; you're here for more important things, and it was the easiest lead in I could think of (also, if you disagree with the structural analysis, that's fine too. I got a 96 on the exact same paper mention below, so I'll take it). Also, I'm really bad at titles, but I figured something is better than "Story I Wrote in a Short Span of Time".
I may or may not add onto this depending on public opinion.
Disclaimers:
If you are not allowed to read/like anything dealing with homosexual sex, I can't prevent you from doing so, but you read at your own risk.
All characters are mine.
All grammatical and typesetting errors are mine.
I did not write Piano Variations; Anton Webern did.
Enjoy!
"Also, each pair of notes is equidistant to A4, I almost forgot to mention that."
You could hear everyone in the room's mind currently being blown at that statement, with the exception of mine. Not that it surprised me; Webern was very methodical with the notes he chose, and the second movement to his Piano Variations was no exception.
"Now," Dr. Blaise, the professor of 20th century music analysis, continued on, "Your essay for this piece will have to deal with the four unison A4's that lie within the piece. You are to discuss the structural purpose of these. To help, I would try to ask this question as well: Obviously, this piece is a binary, but is it sectional, or continuous? The piece may lack a tonal center, but that doesn't mean it can't function like either of those forms. Class dismissed, see you all on Wednesday!"
The sounds of chairs scooting against the tile mixed in with the groans and disgust of the content of the class was normal for the class ending. I really do love this class, however. I find it very satisfying to watch others find out that 20th century music isn't really just a bunch of assholes slamming their hands down on the piano and calling it music. It may not have the same harmonic devices, but the construction and organization is still there, and that's what matters. Aesthetics are the least important factor in deciding whether or not a piece of music is good. At least, that's my opinion. I don't want to sound too arrogant, yet. Maybe once I get out of this conservatory and get my PhD, I could write a book about it.
Anyways, introduction time. I'm Dimitri. I'm a panther with golden eyes; I'm kind of short (5'6), and have a runner's build (I'm about 140 pounds or so). I was born in Russia (No, I don't have a russian accent, nor do I drink vodka all the time) about 22 years ago, moved over to the states when I was 4 (That's why), became interested in music at age 6 playing piano and some clarinet, and decided to become a composer when I was 12. But that's enough about me.
Since class was over, I figured I'd go grab something to eat before Music History. As I headed to the cafe on the campus, I heard footsteps loudly running up behind me.
"Hey, Dimitri!"
"Yeah?" I said as I turned around. I was slightly surprised that Mark, the conservatory's top piano player extraordinaire, was running towards me. The white tiger is kind of an enigma. Firstly, he's about 6'5, and 230 pounds, all of it being muscle. Secondly, he's the best performer anyone has ever heard, and no one sees him in the practice room. Thirdly: he's hot as hell. He has these icy blue eyes that are the perfect hue that give you chills as you look into them. Everything about his face is perfect: those perfectly shaped ears, the impressive jawline, the muzzle of all muzzles....all of it was blissful to look at.
But, I didn't show the fact that I was swooning over him. That'd be unprofessional.
"Okay, I may need your help on this essay. The Debussy essay was easy. This...I don't know how to tackle atonal music. It's just something I'm not familiar with, you know?"
"Sure," I said without hesitation. I wasn't going to pass this up. "When and where do you want to meet?"
"How about my apartment at around 8 tonight? I have to go to the gym and practice, so that should give me plenty of time."
"Sounds fine with me, just make sure to shower," I said with a laugh. He slapped his hand on my shoulder.
"Hah! You know I will. That'd awfully distracting for both of us." He squeezed my shoulder for a brief moment before pulling away.
"You're a good man. I'll see you then!"
He hurried off in the other direction. I rubbed my shoulder, wondering if that was a gesture of fraternity, or something else entirely.
By the time our allotted appointment came around, I had already finished my essay. Mark, however, had only looked at the music and scribbled "Fuck" every two measures. We sat in his apartment's living room, and I tried my best to explain to him how he could look at the piece without telling him actually how to look at the piece. It's more fun when you figure it out for yourself. So I sat there, guiding the discussion we were having so he could at least have a decent foundation for him essay.
"Don't worry about the actual pitch material! That's not what the question is asking, beyond those four unison A4's."
"Okay, okay. So the first pair of A4's is going to be expository in function, because it's the first time we hear it, that I'm sure of. The next one is most likely...developmental because it's the second time we hear it, and the surrounding context has changed..."
"Such as...?"
"Well, the placement in the measure is different, and it's played with the right hand first, rather than the left hand."
"Good. Elaborate on that, and you'll have a solid paragraph."
"Shut it, you."
I smirked a bit.
"Alright. With the third "Event" of unison A4's, I would discuss the form at this point."
"It's a binary, I know that."
"But what kind of binary? I mean, that could severely impact the function of those A's."
"Uhmmm....Well, shit. I don't know. I mean, the pick-up pair of notes is the same one in the beginning, so that suggests a continuous form, but-"
"Describe the argument for it being a continuous form first, then sectional. That'll net you some paragraphs if you describe both arguments for continuous binary and sectional binary."
"Okay....Continuous because of the pick up measure, and...."
"Look at the articulations."
"Oh! Ummm, the articulations in the last four "Events" alternate between staccatos and slurs, creating instability."
"Good. Now, if "event" 16, which is the pickup pair of notes, is to be considered part of the B section, what about event 15?"
"That would be....an interval of a minor third. What does that have to do with anything?"
"Where else does that happen, and what usually happens at the end of the A section of a continuous binary?"
"Well, it happens again at event 10...maybe it could function as a dominant sonority?"
His uncertainty was kind of cute. I let out a sigh.
"That could work. There's three points on that. Now, for sectional."
"Okay. Uhh, section B starts out completely different than section A. There is a notable change of intervals, articulations, and dynamics in section B, and the section ends with the "tonic" sonority of 13 half steps."
"You might need to elaborate on that more, but it'll work for now. Now, those middle two unison A4's?"
"The second one functions as a development, like I said earlier. The third...well, if I called the form sectional, due to the entirely new context, couldn't it be expository?"
"It's a fair point. If you can back it up, go for it."
"But, I don't know, that's the thing. That's why you're here, to tell me if I'm right.
I sighed.
"Not entirely. I'm here to guide you through this essay. I'm not here to give you answers."
"You sound like Dr. Blaise."
"I agree with that philosophy of teaching. That's how I learned. Plus, what if I'm not around and you have to analyze someone like Carter, who is 4 times as complex? How would you survive then?"
"Are you saying that you're leaving?
"I graduate next semester, unless you forgot."
He actually looked somewhat sad at that.
"Elaborate on the third point. It is exposition is you can support it, and it is developmental if you support it. Just don't call it transitional or closure, otherwise you will definitely get points off."
"So that leaves the fourth point...."
"If you say anything but closure, I'm going to throw my anthology at you."
He laughed a little at that.
"I'm not that stupid, you know."
I gave him a questionable look.
"Hey, I can play the piano, you can write music. We all have our strengths and weaknesses." He sighed, and shut his laptop and placed in on the side table next to the sofa we were sitting on. "Say, do you want something to drink? I got some beer in the fridge."
"I don't drink beer, but I'll take a soda if you got one."
"They're bad for you."
"So is beer."
We stared at each other in silence for a moment before he busted out laughing.
"It's true, but we all got our weaknesses," he said with a smile, as he got up and headed towards the fridge.
"You know, you're a really good guy. You may seem pretty aloof, but you're actually pretty likable. You got a girlfriend at home?" he asked from behind the fridge.
I knew this point in time could be a turning point. It could go three ways: I say no, he doesn't pester me about it. I say yes, and lie, and we talk about other things. II say no, he asks why not, and I tell him I'm gay and he is one sexy motherfucker.
Or, I could tell him I'm gay, and he beats the shit out of me.
Or, he doesn't care, and we talk about other things.
....
Let's see what happens.
"Nope," I said with as little expression as possible.
"Aw, why not? You're not exactly ugly either, so girls must be all over you."
This could get interesting.
"And what makes you say that?"
The silence I got from behind the fridge was an interesting reaction.
"Well, I mean, you're fit, not bad looking, and best of all-"
"Mark, are you gay?"
Another bout of silence. My heart was beating very fast at this point, the option of where he beat the shit out of me looming over my head.
He walked over from behind the fridge and sat down next to me on the sofa.
"If I said yes, would you tell anyone?"
A huge wave of relief washed over me. This was fantastic news for me. Now, here's to a smooth rest of the play.
"That's your job to do. I won't tell if you don't."
"Wait. Are you gay as well?"
It was now or never. I leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"Indubitably." I said, and then found my head smashed against his.
Well, smashed is exaggerating a little bit. He leaned in to kiss me, I leaned in again, and neither of us were expecting he other to do that, so we romantically collided.
"Fuck!" I said in pain. I rubbed the spot where his thick skull hit mine.
"Damn, your head is harder than I thought it was," he said, rubbing his in the same manner.
"Okay, let's try this again," I said, after the pain dissipated somewhat.
* I * leaned in placing my hand on his large thigh, and kissed him on the lips. He let my tongue slide in, and it collided with him. Both of tongues, due to being cats, were rough, but that friction was still delightful as the tastes of each others mouths filled our own. My tongue licked all along his teeth to find them wonderfully smooth, and then began sucking on his tongue a little before I pulled off.
"God, you're good," he complimented me.
"I wouldn't know."
"You're a virgin?"
"I probably won't be for much longer," I said with a wink. I put my hands up his shirt and rubbed his contoured abdomen as I nuzzled against his neck.
"Damn, how are you able to be such a good piano player, and maintain this body of yours?" I asked while lifting up his shirt, bringing all 8 abs and his large thick pecs into view. He helped me pull off his shirt, and I took in sights.
His thick neck, corded with muscle, led down to a jagged fault line that made the center piece of his pectoral muscles. Veins snaked their way from the middle of his pecs to his massive shoulders, before making a downward turn into his biceps. Every muscle fiber was on display in his shoulders. Every single motion he made with his arms caused striations of muscle to jump out. His biceps had a clear division between the two muscles, and the vein I mentioned earlier ran right down the middle. The muscle itself was so large, it caused the veins the branched off to physically contort themselves at every twitch, and two larger veins branched off in the forearms. Three bulbous heads made up the back side of his forearms, and a series of popped veins covered the underside, creating a very sensual texture as I rubbed my hands against them, causing him to shiver a little bit.
I brought my eyes to his abs, and placed my hands on them, ghosting along each row, taking particular consideration to trace two veins that led to his groin. The obliques were thin, reminiscent of con trails, but sturdy. The solid bricks that were his abs were more appealing to me, but what can I say? I love a good structure. I ran my hands up his abs once more, noting the beginning of a tent in his pants, and cupped the bottom of his pecs. He flexed them for me, and they tightened in my hands. I punched one to test its might, and was very pleased with the lack of give it had. Smaller traces of veins made their way to the surface, and receded when he relaxed. I latched onto a nipple with my mouth, and he cried out.
"Jesus!" He hissed, mostly in partial shock. I began sucking, and he gave a long moan. He flexed again, and to feel the muscle harden right next to my mouth was an incredible feeling. I pinched the other nipple, and he moaned again, this time a little louder. A tweak there, a twist here...all of it led to a sudden twitch, which told me I was doing a good job. I released him for a moment to take off my own shirt. He let out a loud whistle.
"Boy, you need to go to the gym sometime with me. You'd look real nice all bulked up."
"I'm sure I would," I said, flexing my significantly smaller arms arms. Like I said earlier, I do have some muscle, but I don't go heavy on the weights. "But, you'll have to teach me."
"Then it's settled. You're my new workout partner."
He leaned in and gave me another kiss, this time with a little more fervent, causing me to fall on my back on the sofa. He was rough, but careful. He prodded my tongue with his own, and I ended up rubbing all up and down his massive back. The contours and shifting plates of muscle were all stimulating, and all the stimulus went straight to my cock. He ground his hips into my own, and soon, I could feel the signs of an impressive erection. Mark moved his oral ministrations downwards, before he reached the top of my pants. Wrapping his arm around my waist, he used the other one to unbutton my pants, and pull the zipper down. He slowly pulled my pants off, stood up, and straddled my thighs. I was content to just lay down and let him do whatever he wanted with me.
He raised up his arms and struck a double bicep pose. Mounds of muscle rose up and split, causing several veins to pop to the surface. He rotated his left wrist, and the forearms muscles rotated as well, displaying wonderful cords of muscle. The rivets in the muscle were very noticeable, and the network of veins the wrapped around his elbow were causing me to salivate slightly. Then, he brought his right arm down and flexed his triceps. The horseshoe shape of harden flesh was stupidly large. I just wanted to reach out and touch it, but the look he gave me told me that he was in control, and I would only touch him when he wanted me to.
He relaxed his arms again, and them brought his right arm to flex his bicep, displaying the outer muscle. He leaned in close to my face.
"You like these, don't you?" he asked, already knowing the answer judging by the tent in my boxers. I slowly nodded.
"Then you'll really enjoy this," he said, striking a new pose, flexing both arms, and his chest. Muscles competed for space. Veins flared out into all reaches of those stimulated areas.
My dick throbbed in its tight constraints. He noted it, flexed his abs so that all eight of them were rock solid, bent down and braced his self with his arms on both sides of me, and curved his back so that my tent barely grazed his abs.
To describe it as electric would be kind of an understatement. My mind was so hazy with lust at this point (mostly do his current actions), that I was surprised to find that we still had some clothes on. He rubbed my cockhead through my boxers with his abs, causing pre to leak. It got caught at one point, between the second and third row, and he just held it there and squeezed inwardly. I hissed and moaned in pleasure. The head of my dick had never received such a treatment from myself; the pleasure from this could only be at someone else's doing. While still holding it, he moved his body a little bit, keeping the firm grip upon the tip. I couldn't speak. I was sure I was going to cum right there, but he sensed my almost impending orgasm, and released my dick. I was breathless. The lack of action on his part was slightly nerve racking. I needed that stimulation; all of these new sensations were becoming addicting. He gave my throbbing meat a slight swat with his open palm. I cried out in ecstasy. He did it again, from the other side now, with the same result. He smirked. He knew I couldn't take much more. He shifted his weight forward, and bent down to kiss me again. It was unnaturally tender this time, compared to everything that my body has been through in the past 10 minutes or so. With two sensual kisses, he released me, allowing me to take a small break.
He stood up and started to take off his pants, but I stopped him. He gave me a questioning look.
"Let me do that for you. It's mine turn to have fun with you," I said, standing up, and making him sit on the couch. I grabbed the waistband of his pants, and pulled down. I knelt down, and rubbed my face along his package. Despite everything he had done, it was still remarkably soft, but large.
"Don't worry about that," he said with a large smirk, knowing what I could have been concerned about. I actually was kind of worried, you know, being a virgin and all of that. I ran my hands up and down his thighs, taking great note of the massive muscle heads that straddled both of his kneecaps. Thick veins ran from under his boxers to those muscle heads, and lowed down through his massive calves. I took a deep breath, trying to prepare myself for what was underneath, and pulled down his boxers.
The sight was more impressive and arousing than I ever thought it could be. His sheath was abnormally large, and the barbed tip of his cock was poking out, impressively thick. His balls were plum sized, both requiring both my hands to cup them.
"How on earth do you hide all of this?" I asked breathlessly.
"Carefully," he murred as I gently rubbed his balls, trying to coax more of his massive prick out. Little by little, it snaked out, all still soft. I gave a tentative lick to his balls, lifting one up with my tongue, all while keeping my eyes on that growing piece of meat. The heady aroma from my saliva mixing with his natural musk was very pleasant, almost smelling of ceder. I wanted more of it. I continued to lather his balls, apply suction to keep the stimulation from getting stagnant, and made my way past the sheath.
His cock flesh was somewhat tangy, surprisingly. An almost bitter taste, but it had plenty of sweet highlight in it to counteract the bitter taste. I kissed up, and felt the heat of his cock on my lips every time I made contact. He pushed his hips up, trying to get more stimulation on his dick. I acknowledged this action and stuck my tongue out to lick the underside of his shaft, causing him to hiss in pleasure. I finally reached his barbed tip, and moved back so I could see his monster fully harden. It continued to straighten as it lifted off of his abdomen, and finally, with a small dollop of pre, it was completely hard.
"How in the world did you get this?" I asked in amazement. His cock was at least 14 inches long, and possibly 6 or 7 inches thick. An impressive network of blood vessels navigated their way from the base of his shaft to the tip.
"Great-great-grandpa was supposedly a horse. Genetics is fun, sometimes," he said with a laugh. He had his arms behind his head with a cocky expression on his face. I was slightly jealous, but for now, it was mine to play with. I went down again, and tried to get as much of him in my mouth as I could. I got about four inches in before his thickness became too much for my jaw to take. But, with his continued purring, I'm sure he was content with this.
I tried to relax my jaw and suppress my gag reflex as best I could, but the most I was able to get without terrible discomfort was about six inches. It may not seem like much, but it is when you realize that you aren't even halfway there. I bobbed up and down on his dick, lapping up whatever pre leaked out. I wrapped my hands around the base of his cock, and gently squeezed in pulses. He liked this, considering he arched his back, accidentally shoving his almost half his dick down my throat. I instantly spat his dick out, coughing from the sudden intrusion.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"Yeah, that was just...unexpected is all."
"Well, since you're new to this whole thing, it's kind of expected. Here, let me show you how it's done." He lunged on me, causing me to fall backwards on the floor. Soon, my boxers were off, and my dark red ten inch prick was painting straight into the air without confinement, already drizzling pre.
"Well, you aren't a bad sight yourself," he said, cupping my medium sized balls in one hand. I could feel the callouses on his palms, and the contrast of those small patches of rough skin and the rest of his paw was very pleasurable. He bent down, and dragged his course tongue across my cockhead, lapping up all the pre that had leaked. Electricity sizzled through my nerves, and my hips involuntarily thrust upwards. Mark had a predatory grin on his face; he knew exactly what he was doing to me. He inhaled deeply, and then plunged.
I yelped out in pleasure. I had never felt anything so wonderful in my life. To have a vast majority of my cock suddenly surrounded by the hot, humid, wet environment that was his mouth almost made me cum right then and there; having his tongue constantly swirl around on the underside of my cock didn't help. But, I have a little more self control than that. He pulled off, giving me a moment to breathe before plunging down again. Since I was prepared this time, the action wasn't as nearly as exciting as it was the first time, but now that my brain could actually process what was happening, it made it that much better. When he reached as far as he could go (I think there might have been an inch left, which is still impressive), he bobbed slightly while contracting his throat muscles. A large spurt of pre shot out of my cock, signaling that I was on my way to orgasm.
He pulled off a second time, and this time, he only stuck about five or six inches in his mouth when he went down. To compensate for this subdued stimulation, he wrapped and a hand around the base of my shaft, and twisted. I writhed underneath him. This was almost a torturous feeling; it was all too good, and it was too little for my liking. I needed more.
More is what I got.
I forgot about his other hand, which he then inserted a finger in my anus, surprisingly lubed. He must have soaked it before he went down on me again; I hadn't been looking. He caught the edge of my prostate, and I thrust my hips forward, more of my dick going into his mouth, increasing the delightful sensations. I was trapped in between pleasure. When, I sat my hips down, he added another finger, and with his middle finger, reached my prostate, sending massive waves of pleasure down up and down my spine before reaching my already sensitive cock.
"I don't...think I can take much more of this, Mark--oh sweet Jesus!" I just happened to look at him, and he flexed as hard as he could, with both his hands teasing me, and the floodgates were released.
I've found that, on a good day, I usually ejaculate a lot; probably around half a cup or so. Both of us, however, were unprepared. I spurt a good stream for the first blast. I rarely do that, and it usually takes three hours of masturbation to do so, and we had only been at this for 5 minutes or so (I mean, I did have the previous tease session earlier, which probably contributed a lot to this). There was a pause, and then a slightly smaller stream. Mark coughed for a moment, and then looked on in amazement as I continued through a third and fourth stream.
"Geez, man. You got some balls on you!" By now, the stream became a leak, but between what lay in Mark's stomach and on the floor, there was probably a good cup of jizz. I had never felt so exhausted, and the sexual high I was getting left everything in a haze.
Mark slowly laid down on me, meeting my face. I gave him a very tender kiss, not really able to move well on my own.
Well, I could, but I was so relaxed right now, that I didn't want to.
"You ready for another round?" He said with a a soft smile, hinting at his own needs.
"Possibly..." I said, turning over and presenting my ass to him. "But, only if you're gentle."
"Always," he said with great warmth. I had already been somewhat stretched, but I don't think any amount of preparation could actually prepare me to take all of it.
I felt the great head nudge against my pucker, and he slid it back and forth, trying to get as much of his pre onto it before he thrust in. The anticipation was slowly killing me, and I pushed back slightly to tell him I was ready.
He pushed in smoothly; well, as smoothly as you can go with a thick cock in a virgin hole. It was not painful, as much as it was uncomfortable due to his ease. However, I still made sounds akin to pain. After the head was in, he stopped for a moment to let me breathe. My hole tried to relax as much as it could, but my hormones said I was ready to continue. I pushed back some again, and he pushed forth.
"Gah, you're really tight. You ever stretch this thing?" he said jokingly.
"Maybe you should teach me how." I wasn't joking as much, so it may have come out more sarcastic than I intended it to.
Oh well.
At this point, it may have been about halfway inside (it felt like it, at least), before he pulled out. There was a slight empty sensation, one that I immediately did not enjoy. He slowly thrust in again, this time with a little more gusto. It glided in, until about the point when he stopped. He pushed forward, and I pushed back slightly, and despite the initial tightness, we were able to push through. He stopped for a second, and pulled out again.
His third thrust was very fluid. His copious pre helped a lot in this endeavor, and I was very grateful for it. He got about ten inches in before he pulled out, and resumed thrusting in.
Soon, he finally hilted in me. He lay across my back, and I could feel his larger testicles rub up against mine. I could feel his pulse in my anal tract, and I swear I could feel every single vein, nook, and cranny that made up his turgid flesh. His hot breath floated onto the back of my neck, and it still made my fur stand up.
"That...was more exhausting that I thought it would be...but alas. Now that the exposition is finished, lets move onto some developmental material, shall we?"
"That was awful, Mark." Music puns are always terrible in my book. He smirked, and pulled about about 6 or 7 inches, before thrusting back in. He built up a slow rhythm with this fragment of his cock, thrusting in, and out, each thrust becoming faster and heavier by the minute. More pre leaked into my ass, creating an easier passage for him. My cock had become erect and started to leak for the second time tonight. Soon, his speed was fast enough that the end of each thrust was accompanied by a slapping sound coming from our heavy balls colliding against each other. Normally, this would probably hurt, but thank god for body chemicals and stuff like that.
Time progressed, and his thrusts become longer and faster. I was in a haze of bliss and love. I moaned everything his thick cock head slid up against my prostate, causing more pre to leak out. I was making quite the puddle, despite having already an orgasm earlier. Every time our balls contacted, a slight shock of electricity swept through me, adding to the rising sensations.
All too quickly, he stopped, and then turned me over.
"More development?" I asked with a grin.
"Transitioning to closure, more like," he said as he resumed thrusting.
This new angle brought a lot more visual delights to the table. Seeing the way Mark's abs crunched, the way he grit his teeth, and the way the veins in his arms pulsated as he continued to thrust into me was bringing me closer to the edge.
"I'm not going to be much longer....just to give you a good warning...." he said, as his thrusting picked up in fervency. Each thrust was pounding into my anus, shoving past my prostate, and causing me to make rather silly sounds.
I tried to hold on as long as I could, and I was doing fine, until Mark decided to bend down a little bit and suck my cock. Sensations from both ends were too much, and I came again into his mouth. My asshole quivered and squeezed his cock, and his one painfully hard thrust, he hilted inside, and let his own orgasm start.
He roared as he came, giant squirts of semen flying out of his dick right into the lining of my anal tract. I feel felt the warmth that came from his load seethe inside, pushing further further down as he came more and more. My orgasm had finished, but his was still going on.
"I did warn you..." he said in between squirts. He placed a gentle paw on my stomach and smeared my own spilled seed around before lifting up a paw and licking it clean as his lengthy orgasm subsided.
"Damn, Dimitri, you taste good."
"Thanks, I guess..." I said in exhaustion. He soon pulled out, creating a vacuum like feeling in my gut. I didn't want him to leave.
I sat up, and propped myself up against the couch. He stood up and looked down on me, still breathing heavily in the afterglow of our coupling.
"Funny how this all started because of a question on the essay."
"Good thing there are four more left in the course," I said with a grin, knowing full well he'd be asking me for help.