Teardrops are a collection of short, slightly sad stories (but remember, there are tears of joy and of love), that exist for a brief moment before they are wiped, and shed every Sunday. Or when they are ready, whichever comes last...

You never forget how

by Antheros

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.

20 Nov 2005
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