You never forget how
I took it between my fingertips, wrapping my lips around it and wetting it with my tongue.
“What are you doing?” Martina asked me, curious, as she watched with attention. I slowly, almost sensually, let it slid out of my mouth, and held it with my fingers.
“I'm wetting it.”
“Because it has to be wet,” I grinned.
I secured it in place. I wrapped my fingers around the body, testing it, feeling the weight, the hardness.
“It's been some time, Martina. Years.”
“It's okay. Don't worry,” she smiled.
I took it to my mouth, feeling the tip with my tongue for a moment, and started to blow. There was the slightest vibration on my lips, and soon I heard a deep, moaning sound. I blew a little more, and the sound became smooth, profound, like I enjoy it. I let my instincts come back, my fingers to their job, touching the body lightly but firmly; I was feeling a little rusty, and not quite able to do what I once could. I closed my eyes, just feeling it in my mouth, my lips and tongue making the very slight movements that made all the difference.
Suddenly there was a horrible high shriek. I quickly opened my eyes, taking it off my mouth. But I looked at her, and we both started to smile, and then giggle, finally laughing so much we couldn't even breathe.
“I told you it's been a while.”
“Do it again. I liked it, you make it sound like velvet. Can you play the beginning of Rhapsody in Blue? You know, don't you?”
“Yes, I do,” I said, taking the clarinet back to my mouth.