Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 12

"Yeah, group first, then individuals," he agreed. We decided on an arrangement that perched Charlie on a stool, a mandolin on his thigh, with the others arranged around him. I moved the lights into what I thought would work, took a dozen pictures, then moved the lights twice more and did the same. In twenty minutes we had more than 40 photos and I knew there was a good one in there somewhere.

I shot Charlie with each student, in assorted poses. I did each in a similar pose, then did a couple of variations.

Tom and Margery sat out of the way and exchanged small talk with everyone. Margery recognized Nick from an introductory philosophy class in the fall of her disastrous freshman year and they carried on an animated conversation about eschatology.

We finished the shoot in about an hour. I stashed my camera in the trunk, so I had just the pocket camera on my hip. Tom, Margery, Francis, Helen, and I filled the Honda and followed Nick's red pickup with the others north along the river, deep into farm country.

Nick pulled off the main road and we drove down a long, tree-lined drive that ended at a large frame house with several outbuildings and a massive barn. Nick darted inside and emerged with three large picnic hampers, a cooler, and a bunch of blankets, all of which he lashed down with bungee cords in the back of his pickup.

Returning to the main road, Nick swung north again and about a half mile later turned onto a dirt road. We drove through a lot of corn until a small grove of trees appeared.

We unloaded the truck, spread the blankets, and opened the hampers filled with platters of chicken, potato salad, bottled water, loaves of bread, cheese, and grapes. I was of course shooting everything and only after things were spread out did I hear the stream rushing through the corn.

"My great-great-grandfather bought his first land in 1892," Nick said. "It's perfect for corn especially, grapes and apples, soybeans even. We own almost 1,000 acres and we rent more, which gives us real economies of scale. My parents got married in this grove. It's very special."

We ate, talked, and laughed. Afterwards, our bellies full, we lay back and watched the clouds lazily drift across the sky. The trees shielded us from the direct sun, but it was hot and we could easily have fallen asleep.

Nick roused us and offered to show everyone the land upstream. The family spread included almost a mile of water frontage and he was obviously proud of it. Mike quickly took him up on it and, almost as quickly, Tom jumped in and looked at Margery. "C'mon, fresh air and a brisk walk will do us both good, get rid of the library pallor."

After they disappeared, Helen and Francis, who had been flirting throughout the afternoon, started singing Bill Monroe and Johnny Cash. Martha and Even joined them and it soon seemed to me that this was becoming an impromptu rehearsal. Janice looked disinterested.

Martha was sitting between Evan and me. She took the opportunity to show that she and I weren't an item by giving Evan the opening strokes of a very sensuous backrub, even as they sang.

I caught Janice's eye and nodded my head toward the water. We slipped away and followed the uneven ground south between the corn and the water.

"You guys were really great at the union last week," I said. "I don't think anyone expected what you gave them."

"Yeah, we really knocked 'em dead, didn't we?" she replied, in a tone that didn't support the words.

"Where do you go to school?" I asked, as the cold fingers of my high school insecurities about talking to girls grabbing at me.

"Oh, right here. I'm in the music department."

The narrow strip of land between the corn and the water forced us to walk Indian-file, so the next 15 minutes were silent until we came to a place where the stream bent sharply right and the corn wasn't crowding us.

We sat in the weeds and watched the water go by.

Shoulda brought water. At least we could talk about that.

"Wanta take pictures of the riverbank?"

"You've been doing this all day. You do this stuff all the time?"

"Yeah, ever since high school." I handed her the camera and she looked blankly at it.

"Here," I said, "this is the power button, the lens zooms out, you look at the screen and frame what you want to shoot. This button trips the shutter." She fumbled with it but eventually snapped several shots of the water and the corn.

"We can take pictures of each other, too," I said. She aimed, pushed the button a couple of times, then handed it back to me. One image seemed pretty good.

I shot her from several angles. From one side I was able to pick up the tight bun of her hair, which was perched on the back of her head, awkwardly. When I finally tried for a portrait, she was relaxed enough to smile, and I called it a successful shoot.

We got up and, after walking another 20 minutes, found a path into the corn.

"Where do you think this goes?" I asked.

"Well, a truck turned around, right here," she said, motioning to the area of flattened corn, "so it must lead somewhere."

We turned onto it and for the first time we were able to walk side-by-side.

"How is the rehearsal going?"

"It's okay. Each of us wants to do what we know. Charlie is pretty smooth about trying to harmonize us, but it's a little tense sometimes. Mike is used to soloing, Evan and Francis are completely crazed on Bill Monroe, Martha would sing the whole way through if we'd let her. Helen and I are really instrumentalists. It's an uneasy mix, but we're working it out.

"Tomorrow afternoon we're going to meet, without Charlie, and hash out a program. I hope."

"You all do mandolin, right? And some guitar?"

"Yeah, but some better than others." She paused. "I took up the mandolin last winter. I'd gotten into bluegrass with my violin, and got sucked into the mandolin on the side. I like it, it's simpler than the guitar, but I really like playing fiddle pieces."

"Did I miss the fiddle parts last week?"

"Nope. Charlie wanted to showcase what he's teaching. He said everybody has to be in two pieces and he handed me the serenata and the Mozart, which I'd ever known had been adapted for the mandolin.

"But I'm nothing if not a quick learner. Neither Martha nor I liked the serenata, but Helen and I had a blast with the Mozart — it's a kicker! I realized that a lot of the violin parts of Mozart's music can be adapted pretty easily for the mandolin. That alone has been worth the price of admission."

"Can you really major in violin?" Dumb question! You're trying too hard.

"What kinduva question is that?"

"Oh, I sorry," I blushed. "I didn't think — I mean, it's sorta, well, I don't —"

The path came out onto a dirt road and I recognized it as the start of where we'd come in, so we turned right.

"No, no, that's all right, bad choice of words. I'm a little touchy on the subject of my major.

"My teacher says I'm very good, that I can play in a major symphony if I work at it. But she wants me to give up the bluegrass, says it's desensitizing. My brother says she's thinking like a professional team executive.

"Apparently the pro athletes, they play football or baseball, but in the offseason they all play basketball and a surprising number of them get hurt doing it. He claims it's written into pro contracts that if you get injured playing sports in the offseason, they can dump you. Doesn't seem fair."

"So what are you gonna do?"

"Oh, I'll play classical violin. I got into the young artists program at Tanglewood three summers ago, after my junior year in high school, so I know I can do it.

"I came here 'cause my parents made a deal with me — they're skeptical that I will be able to make a living with the violin. 'Get a good education, we'll support you after you get your BA.' It's tough to argue with the logic. So to get the degree, I'm majoring in something easy, English, but minoring in music, where I spend all my time.

"I crammed in every English course I could this year, so now I only have two more courses besides the thesis, so by the end of fall semester I'll be finished. I get B's, who cares, and I get to play music." It was so clever I wanted to copy it, if I had any idea what I wanted to do with my life.

"So you're a junior?"

"Yup, just finished sophomore year. You?"

"Same."

"You know I'm going to be in your interviews next week?"

"No! What day?"

"Thursday."

We were trudging along the road when we heard giggling and moaning in the corn.

"Shhhh," said Janice, and motioned me to follow her toward the sound.

Francis was on his back as a naked Helen was bobbing on his cock. We had a great angle as we peeked through the stalks. I took my camera out of my hip case but Janice put her hand on mine, then raised a finger to her lips.

"They'll hear us. Let's just watch," she whispered, close to my ear.

Francis was really into being sucked, moaning and playing with Helen's hair, and she was having a good time too. She must have decided he was hard enough because she pulled off.

"Ride me, please," he begged.

"You bet!" She had the condom out and rolled it onto him in one stroke. Then she slid herself onto his cock, adjusted her position, and began her rising and falling.

Soon her breasts and hair were flying and her face went from raw pleasure into a contortion of ecstasy. Francis was holding her hips and bucking furiously into her pussy when he suddenly grunted "I'm cumming! I'm gonna cum! Oh god yes, I'm cumming!"

Helen shifted from bouncing on her own and leaned forward, holding herself above him on her hands and swinging her breasts across his chest as she churned him with short, hard strokes. "Cum in me, cum, cum, make me cum, oh god yes, you're gonna get me!" She was grinding her pussy against him and he was obviously starting.

"Oh yeah! Oh good, oh god yes, oh god yes, oh goddddd!"

She was still writhing on his cock as he finished. Suddenly she shot straight up and just pounded him.

"God, fucking god, so fucking good, yesssss, I'm cumming, yesssss!" Then she collapsed on his chest and they clung together.

A flushed Janice was licking her lips when I tapped her shoulder and motioned that we should back away.

"Wonder how the others are doing? We probably ought to make noise when we get closer, eh?" she husked, her eyes sparkling.

As it turned out, there wasn't any need to announce our arrival. Evan and Martha welcomed us with offers of grapes. Each was wearing a "just been fucked well" smile. Evan had forgotten to zip his pants and Martha's jeans had a wet spot in the crotch.

Janice and I plunked ourselves down on one of the remaining blankets. "I should have taken water with us," I apologised, handing Janice some grapes. I pulled two chilly bottles out of the cooler and we slugged them down.

Mike and Nick returned, hand in hand. While it was close, I think Nick had the bigger grin. Then Francis and Helen appeared, spread the blanket in its original place, and pretended that they had just been picking wildflowers or something.

It was almost five and we were packing up when Margery and Tom finally sauntered in. "Just got fucked well" did not even begin to describe the look on Tom's face. Margery tried for bland but couldn't keep it up, especially when our eyes met.

Of course I was snapping everything.

It seemed unfair to make Nick trek all the way back to town, only to have to drive back home, but there was no way everyone would fit in the Honda.

"I do it five, sometimes six, days a week. But maybe not tonight," he smiled, I think at Mike.

He expertly assembled Mike, Francis, Helen, Martha, and Evan in the pickup, leaving just Margery, Tom, and Janice for my smaller sedan.

Nick pealed off as we arrived in town. Margery had laid her hand on my shoulder, which I translated to "my place." She and Tom were leaving the car when I called her back. I retrieved the two envelopes from the glove compartment.

"I forgot to give these to you," I smiled.

She hefted them.

"Thank you," she mouthed.