Rainbow Symphony

Prelude

Mai Chang stood at the podium, facing the assembly of young musicians. This was her first meeting with her orchestra for the new school season. She had lost almost half her musicians through last year's graduation. Her eyes traveled across the group of her seventy-five music majors, playing the game of matching names to faces.

She was the chair of the Music Department of this Ivy League school, and had interviewed each applicant separately last semester. The School of Music was the top rated in the country. She had handpicked all these newcomers herself. That was four months ago. A few faces were easy to recall. These were the bright achievers with perfect credentials. Her mind would need a little jarring to recollect the rest.

Seated at the grand piano to her left was Karin Sorenson, a talented artist Mai had chosen from several applicants. Karin was a flaxen haired beauty. Graduating last spring from a state college in Minnesota, she was an easy pick for admission . After hearing her audition, Mai had met with her in her private office last April. She had been seated when Mai walked into the room. This young beauty had the kind of shape Mai admired in a woman. Karin was slender, with the smooth muscles of an athlete, probably a swimmer. She had an outgoing personality, and a dazzling smile.

Following a brief interview, Karin rose to leave. Her knee length pleated silk skirt clung to her body, displaying her exquisite figure to great advantage and accenting her height. Mai judged her to be at least 5' 11' tall. As the student left the room, Mai admired her physical profile. Karin's bra contained and displayed a splendid bosom. The thin material of her dress and lingerie didn't hide the fullness of her breasts nor their erect nipples as she turned to thank Mai. Mai noted the downward slope of Karin's ass as she left the room. It was perfection itself. Yet this modest young woman seemed totally unaware of these assets.

Mai recalled that interview as she glanced at Karin seated at the piano for the first rehearsal. Karin waited attentively for Mai's baton to strike the side of the podium signally her request for attention. Karin marveled at both Mai's achievements and appearance. Mai was one of the first female conductors at the college and professional level to achieve the position of department head. She had been and was still sought after as a guest conductor with major symphony orchestra worldwide.

At 31 years old, she had a look not much different from the members of the student orchestra who sat beneath her baton. Her hair was a shiny jet black. It was styled in a pageboy cut, complete with bangs and shoulder length hair combed under and resting on a slender neck. She had amazing almond shaped eyes, set in a beautiful heart shaped face. Her hands were tiny, like those of porcelain doll.

She was only 5'2" tall. Softly flared hips accented Mai's tiny wasp waist. Her legs were sheathed in hose with an iridescent sheen. The fabric rose up her legs and disappeared beneath the hem of her skirt. Several of her male students sat in the violin section to her left and the bass section to her right. Each could only wonder at what lay beneath. Several males wished their that fingers could follow the seam up the back of her legs to discover if she wore panty hose, or better yet, a garter belt. The tight fit of her sweater accented her breasts. They were small, perhaps, but striking, perfectly matched to her petite shape.

This day she wore red, a matching cashmere pullover and pleated skirt, cut above the knee. The color suited her Asian features and complexion. She was truly a "perfect package" and she knew it. Mai realized that it was the entire persona.... her skill at conducting and arranging, plus her appearance that had advanced her career to this point at such an early age.

She had married a fellow student she met in graduate school. He was attractive enough, and also an excellent musician and composer. They had much in common. They studied together, practiced music together and eventually slept together. They were totally absorbed in their musical life and future careers. Neither of them had had much experience in the rituals of dating and courtship. Their sexual performance seemed adequate and satisfying, if unexceptional. They were quite satisfied with the physical, as well as emotional parts of their lives, and upon graduation, they were married. They settled into the academic life, had friends on campus among the faculty, all very similar in life style. To their fellow faculty members, they appeared perfectly content.

In the last year or two, Mai had begun to observe the youthful enthusiasm of her students; the easy flirting that was simply a part of their lives. She began to realize that somewhere along the path that led to choices of career and life partner, she might have taken a wrong turn. The excitement and thrills that were part of youth seemed to have flown past her. But she didn't dwell on it. She simply accepted the situation as a small tradeoff for her exceptional successes.

Mai's tiny hand tapped her baton. There was a rustle of music sheets and squeaking of chairs as the musicians adjusted themselves and looked toward the podium. Mai had chosen Mozart's Sonata in C as a good practice piece for a first rehearsal. It was pretty and melodic, and for Mozart, quite simple. Mai's hand raised the baton, pointed it at the strings, and began to conduct.

Seated at Mai's immediate left, in the soloist position, was a new cellist, Zacharia Zama. His chair lined up beside Karin's bench. The black man was dressed in a black t-shirt and black jeans. He was quite attractive, she thought.

Zach was a native of the Cameroons, the former French possession on the coast of West Africa. His parents were both physicians practicing in Yaounde. This was the capital city, with a population of 1½ million, and very cosmopolitan. He spoke English in a clipped British accent, flavored with French undertones. Most American students found his low-pitched bass voice attractive. Girls thought he was very sexy, even exotic. He was tall and muscular, over 6' 2". His skin was black, dark as ebony. His hair was short and curly. He had thick, full lips. His wide nose spread close to his face, his nostrils flaring slightly. His smile was wide, and his open mouthed smile displayed perfect white teeth.

He attracted women without effort. It would have been easy for him to connect with a great number of fellow students. Yet he was reserved and detached in his choice of friends. He stayed close to his few African classmates, one from Gabon, one from Kenya. There were no female Africans at the school. While at University in Nigeria, he had been advised to remain aloof from Americans, and not to make close friends. He was told that the differences between races and cultures are often misunderstood. These misunderstandings could lead to conflicts, followed by trouble. It was difficult being a stranger in a strange land. Now in a graduate school in the U.S., he chose to follow the advice of his countrymen. This was not without difficulty.

He was, after all, a 22-year-old alpha male, fully equipped.

First Movement

The Mozart piece was a familiar one to both Karin and Zach. They had played the composition countless times in undergraduate school. Neither looked at the sheet music in front of them. They looked toward the podium, following the beat of Mai's baton.

Karin glanced sideways at Zach. How handsome he was! A quick mental picture filled her mind. The two of them were lying side by side on a sandy beach, facing each other, nude. Her eyes darted back to the podium.

"Wow," she thought.

A moment later she glanced to her left again. Zach's attention was fixed on Mai Chang. He was at this point playing simple harmony, his eyes not even on the baton. Zach's gaze was slowly roaming over Mai's body. Karin knew the look. She had received it herself at times. He was undressing Mai bit by bit with his eyes. Karin squirmed on her bench, excited by what she was witnessing. She smoothed her skirt pulling it down toward her knees unconsciously.

Normally she would think that conduct was crude. Somehow, though, this behavior from the African sitting beside her created a stir of excitement. She felt the hairs on her forearms prickle as color crept under her skin. Her cheeks were hot. Her belly became warm. The beach scene returned. She blinked it away, turned to the podium and concentrated on the music.

Zacharia Zama was smitten. He had had his share of sexual experiences on the African Continent. There were the local girls, then University classmates. He had assumed that a good night of fucking would be at the top of his agenda while he was home on the school break. He had up until now avoided thinking about American women.

By his own rules, the pretty blond beside him was off limits. Certainly the Chinese professor at the podium was also forbidden fruit. But he could not take his eyes away from Mai Chang. She was a beautiful, mysterious Chinese temptress, dressed in red, exuding sex and ready for...what?

Like most young conductors, she led in an active style. As she swung her body left and right, pointing her baton, her pleated skirt flew up and spread, exposing more of her thigh. When she reached forward to cue the horns at the back of the ensemble, he could see that she wore stockings, not panty hose. The upper seam of the hose was exposed briefly, now and again. If he watched carefully, perhaps the skirt would lift a bit more. He wondered if she wore garters? The thought excited him. He was playing the music by rote, and so was able to concentrate completely on her ass. Occasionally his eyes followed folds in the wool of her sweater. It bunched up beneath her small breasts as she leaned into the podium. He tried to imagine the shape and swell of what lay beneath. Was she wearing a bra?

He felt his prick twitch and expand. It was trapped in his boxers and held tight by his jeans. He shifted in his seat. He slid back in the chair, lifted his ass off the seat, and shook his butt a little. His cock sprang free and lay against his thigh.

"Ah..."

He reseated himself. The small action did not go unnoticed by either Mai or Karin. Karin glanced to the side and down toward his crotch. But it was completely hidden by the cello he held between his legs.

"Bet he has a hard on" she guessed.

Mai felt her skin getting warm. She directed the entire ensemble, but her thoughts were fixed on the black shape seated behind the cello. He was not reading the music. He had his eyes on her constantly. As she prompted the strings, her baton waved across the group. Any quick glance his way found him staring at her. He never looked in her eyes. He was stripping her where she stood. She felt naked. Sometimes he watched her ass, sometimes her tits. This stare-down had occurred before in other years with other groups. Actually, she would have been disappointed had no one paid attention to her appearance. But this time she wasn't snickering at schoolboy attempts. This time she was getting hot.

Karin noticed that Mai was hurrying the piece. The tempo was increasing at a point when it should have been more relaxed. This was a sonata, after all. Looking out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zach still performing his voyeuristic diversion. Was this getting to Madame Chang? She wasn't sure, but she thought so.

Zach remained totally wrapped in his fantasy. He was busy feeling her body with phantom hands, stroking her ass, straightening the folds in her sweater and patting her breasts. He again followed the seam of her stocking up to the hem of her skirt, watching for the skirt to swirl. Maybe he would get lucky and catch a peek.

At just that moment, she saw him, and knew for sure. As she waved her baton and led the music, she felt her crotch brush against her panties. Her hairy bush rolled easily across the fabric. Her pussy was wet. She was amazed at this. During sex with her husband, the K-Y jelly was always in the bedside drawer and at the ready. Here she was pouring out lubricant triggered by the stare of a student.

She was physically excited, even hot. She made a quick decision, astonishing herself. She would give this black man his precious moment. Then she needed to finish the piece and get out of there. This time she would end the coda with a flourish. She would have a momentary, final connect with the young black. They would share a personal moment, never to be repeated.

"Are you watching, Zacharia Zama?" She smiled to herself.

Mai raised her baton, indicated to the percussion section to be ready. The snare drum began its roll. She lifted her body on tiptoe and swung the wand forward, leaning well into the podium. Her skirt rose toward her ass, exposing her garter belt, its black straps riding down against her red panties, clipped to the iridescent stockings. She turned her ass to the left, only for a moment, flashing the surprised student.

"How was that?" She sent a silent message.

She glanced for a nanosecond at Zacharia, catching his eye.

The piece was finished.

Only Zach and Karin sitting to her immediate left caught the act. Zach was stunned. He had been playing a little game of mental masturbation. Catching that glimpse both titillated and embarrassed him. He remained seated, stunned at what had just happened. He did his best to mask his nervous excitement.

Karin knew the signs. Zach was in heat. It was exciting to see this gorgeous creature lusting after a woman just a few feet away.

She had a fleeting thought.

"Wish it was me."

It was a quick notion, born out of the warmth she felt as a secondary voyeur. She had been watching... the watcher.

"Jeez!"

Mai made a brief announcement. "That was a good sight read. It looks as though we have a winning team. Let's break for fifteen minutes and regroup for our critique."

Mai stepped down from her platform on the stage crowded with chatting musicians, and quickly exited the auditorium.

Mai took the short walk to her office. It was sparsely furnished, but adequate and comfortable. There was a small round table that served several purposes. She usually had lunch there mid-week. It converted to an informal desk for student conferences. She read and sorted her daily mail and assignments there. Against one wall were her computer set-up and a mini fridge. On the wall opposite rested some personal furniture. A sofa bed that opened into a lumpy queen sized bed sat next to a well-used upright piano. These items came from her parent's home, and were familiar things she used as a child. Most importantly, Mai had a private bathroom. Faculty members treasured these facilities above all else.

Mai hurried down the corridor and stood at her office door. Trembling, she fumbled with the door key, and immediate went to the sofa, turned and collapsed onto the well-worn cushions. Her head was spinning. She felt like a schoolgirl. The emotions she experienced, one following the other as she stood on the podium, stunned her. She thought back to the sequence of events that triggered the incident.

This new African student had affected her in a way she had never felt before. She seemed to excite this virile young man in a very sensual way. The episode thrilled her. Some primal instinct deep within her caused her to respond to his boldness. She actually flashed her ass at him. The memory caused her to blush anew. A crimson heat coursed through her body. Her pussy began to tingle again. She felt secretion pour anew from the crack in her vagina and soak through her panties. She pushed her open hand against her crotch and squeezed her fingers against her cunt's outer lips.

Her thoughts flew back to the incident. Zacharia of course, was equally aware of what had occurred between them. But surely, it was a secret contact between them alone. The other students were concentrating on the music, she was certain. At any rate, it gave her a small comfort to think so.

She knew her body needed immediate release from this sexual stimulation. The thought of masturbation crept into her psyche. It was an obvious solution. She had not stimulated herself "down there" since before her marriage. However, she had never felt such a strong sexual desire as this either. She rose from the sofa and walked into to her treasured rest room.

Mai lowered the seat over the wooden ring of the toilet. She stood there for a moment, reflecting on her decision. She wanted to smile to herself at what she was about to do, but the feeling was too intense. Pushing any further thoughts fro her mind, Mai reached under her skirt and pulled at her red panties. She could smell the sweet musty odor of her pussy's discharge as she lowered them to her ankles. She reached for a hand towel that hung on a hook near the sink and layed it across the seat. Holding up her pleated skirt, she lowered herself on the towel and slid her ass forward, resting her back against the tank.

This was an activity from long ago, but there are some things that come in a natural way. She laid her right hand, the one that had recently wielded a baton, against the lips of her pussy. Mai's middle finger dove into the sopping wet crack and found her clitoris easily. It was already swollen and stiff. As she let the tip of her middle finger rest against it, a shock of shear pleasure vibrated through the depths of her pussy.

"Oh-h!" And again. "Oh-h-h!"

Her breath quickened as she began to massage the tissues within her vagina. She stroked her clit between her index and middle finger, slowly... slowly. She rotated her digits in a circle around and over the swollen button, feeling a new and different thrill with each thrust . She allowed herself to relive the moments of her phantom connection with Zach. She remembered his gaze as it enveloped her body. She watched the pupils of his eyes creep up her legs to her ass. Mai felt her tits enveloped in his sight. Her free hand reached up to a breast. She squeezed and fondled her bosom, tweaking her nipple, rubbing it briskly with her fingernail.

"Ee..ah....ee..ah."

She allowed little squeals to leave her lips. The sounds pleased her and heightened her pleasure.

As she stroked the depths of her pussy, she discovered new areas of extreme sensitivity, giving her new pleasures. Her body writhed about her perch as waves of fresh spasms began to envelop her entire vagina. She was starting to come, but she wasn't ready for this bliss to end.

She recalled Zach's sudden shift in his chair, moving his cello forward away from his crotch as he adjusted his body. He was getting a hard on. She was giving him a hard on...just standing there... on the dais.

"Oh, my God!" She wasn't able to hold back any longer . Her fingers flew across her clit. The nub swelled. Her cunt was on fire! And then came the release. Wave upon wave of contractions wracked her pussy. Her cunt lips contracted against her fingers, as if they were a cock...Zach's cock.

"Oh, Zach... Zach!" She whispered his name as she came.

"Fuck me, Zach."

And then it ended.

A feeling of serenity replaced the urgency and excitement she had endured since she left the podium. Her ass slumped further forward on the toilet seat, her hand still in her pussy, resting against the puffy clitoris. Her skirt was a ring around her waist. Her panties lay against the red shoes at her ankles. Her head lolled back and rested against the top of the toilet tank. She decided to rest a few minutes, composing herself. Mai closed her eyes... and drifted off.

***************

It had been 45 minutes since Professor Chang had announced the 15-minute break. Orchestra members had long since drifted back to the auditorium. There was a general restlessness that permeates a crowd of students hanging around on a nice fall day. Karin looked toward the rear door. Nope. Not here yet. She glanced over to Zach. He sat in his chair with his head down. He looked nervous. Karin decided to check out the situation. She raised her voice as she addressed the crowd.