Isabella Awakening Ch. 08

Gabrielle took up one of Aron's little mallets and hit a wooden key three times to signal that she was to speak.

"Ladies!, Boys! We have been privileged tonight to witness the premier performance of an outstanding work of art. I'm sure we all agree that we have been part of something truly special. Amalia, Marlesa, boys, we thank you from the depths of our hearts. I notice that Maria has provided a sumptuous main course while we have been enraptured, so I suggest we fill our cups and toast our performers and share our meal." She raised her own goblet and intoned, "To Orgasta and Clitoria, may their reign ever strengthen!"

The little crowd intoned "may their reign ever strengthen," gave a final round of applause and moved as one to tables on the upper level.

The food was delicious; the women heaped their plates, filled their goblets and found chairs, or simply sat on the floor in groups of two or three. Isabella found herself with Amalia and Marlesa and enthused once again over the performance.

"Have you explored the erotic potential music yourself?" asked Amalia.

Isabella nodded as she finished a mouthful of roasted chicken. She took a mouthful of wine and started to describe her love of opera and symphonies and the rapture they induced in her. The women nodded and spoke of the sensual pleasures they found in the music of different cultures, the importance of erotic pacing, voices and cadences, the harmonies between the major parts and a woman's inner strings. Isabella nodded and smiled. She mentioned casually that she had experienced sublime joy at the hands of a famous composer during the premier of one of his works at the Naples opera house. Amalia and Marlesa leant forward and good-naturedly demanded more detail.

Isabella described her evening with Pergolisi, the preparations made by Anton and the seamstress, the warnings of Pergolesi's frailty and shyness, her own feelings of expectation and growing arousal. She gave them a movement-by-movement description of the opera and of his playing of her erotic chords, her opening up to both his hands and the music, her becoming his living 'cello. So absorbed was Isabella in the telling of her story, she had not noticed the quiet approach of the other women, now seated around her. She drew her story to its climax, her own transcendent release in the final act, Pergolesi's gentle caresses of recovery and, finally, her thankful and gentle fellating of the composer before he slipped away into the night.

"How wonderful!" It was Jax, sitting close to Isabella's shoulder. The others murmured their agreement and appreciation. Isabella smiled.